The Fifth Age
by Ruinus
Summary: As the Citadel species draw up secret plans to combat the Reaper threat, something old and ancient is discovered in the depths of space.
1. Zero Point

_There is no plan, there is no story, there is no order. It's just a jumble of thoughts at 3 AM._

* * *

 _Voyeurism protocol: Far Rim Dholen System. Unknown Event: Extreme Caution Advised._

Captain Kirrahe didn't like short messages from the higher ups; even in his line of work short messages often spelled trouble. The shorter the message the more there was that supposed to be kept secret; the more that is supposed to be secret, the more that was on the line. This, combined with the fact that his crew and ship had been rerouted from a prior mission, had him on edge. He scanned the message again and again as he waited for his ship to drop out of faster-than-light.

What bothered Kirrahe was the destination, the Dholen system. He'd been there with his crew on a previous op; providing clandestine support for Spectre Vakarian during his mission on Haestrom. His crew had spent the better part of an hour engaging geth ships with a prototype cyber-warfare suite, disabling the ships and preventing geth reinforcements from swarming Spectre Vakarian's position. They'd succeeded and Spectre Vakarian had rescued the quarian Tali'zorah, improved relations between the two governments. The Spectre never had a clue that a full STG regiment had been fighting alongside him; just as it should be.

That had been the only excitement to grace the Dholen system in centuries. Outside of the interests of a few astrophysicists and geth counter-intelligence branches of STG, no one cared what happened here.

So what was this Unknown Event?

"FTL drop in 5."

Kirrahe's eyes snapped up to the CIC screens in front of him; information about the system began to fill the screens, though the probe his team had left behind when shadowing Vakarian failed to respond.

"geth detection?" Kirrahe asked, the entire mission would be that much harder if the geth suspected their presence.

"Negative sir, we dropped at the outer edges of the system. Stealth window is good."

"Link up to our probe," he ordered, his pilot and sensor officers both responding as they maneuvered the ship to its last known location.

"Activity?"

"Readings indicate increased geth activity, but light lag prevents more accurate readings" one of his officers responded. "Slight variation from Dholen."

"Variation?" Kirrahe questioned, new information being sent to his CIC from the sensor stations. There appeared to be a slight increase in the trace amounts of dark energy around the star, but he doubted that this was the cause for their mission. "Have we linked up to the probe yet?"

"Negative captain," his officer responded, "We're having trouble picking up the probe's signal."

"Equipment error?" Another of his officers supplied.

"Or deliberate action." Another countered.

 _Unknown Event._

"Keep searching for the probe, low level scans. Deliberate action possible. Keep me informed of geth activity." He rattled off. Something was out there, hidden from their view. Kirrahe knew this; years of covert operations had honed a gut feeling that let him know when someone was hiding.

And he had a mission to find it.

* * *

Kirrahe looked at his omni-tool's clock. 48 minutes. The hour was almost up and they'd seen nothing, not a trace of the probe or whatever the probe had reported back to headquarters. In addition, espionage missions in geth space had always had an air of increased nervousness, meaning that the mission was starting to fray everyone's nerves. His crew had quickly ruled out some sort of equipment error or natural event. It was rare for an STG probe to fail, especially deep space probes like the one that had been deployed in Dholen. Onboard obstacle detections and the computer's own course correction systems meant that it could avoid asteroids with trivial ease, not that such measures were needed in this system.

That left deliberate action. Someone had removed the probe.

He'd conversed with one of his techs, double checking what he knew of the probe model. STG custom made, very hard to tamper with, very hard to spot.

That was suspicious.

The probe, his technician had told him, would start broadcasting back towards headquarters if it picked up low or high level sensor sweeps. If a ship had discovered the probe, the probe would prioritize identifying the ship over any previous duties. That the probe had only begun its emergency signal moments before going offline meant that whoever had disabled the probe had done so without being detected until the very last moment.

Technically, the probe hadn't even detected the ship, it had only detected something.

That was troubling.

If it was the geth, how? There had been no reports of the geth building their own counter to the _Menae_ -class, a terrifying thought that kept many awake at night, and if there was a geth stealth ship, why test it against probes most likely to detect it? It was highly unlikely that this was the case, one of the techs reminded the crew, as the STG probe also contains several cameras to capture images of any object that approaches a certain proximity. Nothing had shown up and stealth systems, despite advances in the technology, did not make the ship visually invisible. Even the _Menae_ could be detected by visual confirmation. Furthermore the geth activity didn't add up. They'd been able to detect an increased number of geth ships patrolling near Charoum and Haestrom; which meant that the synthetics were on guard. One of his officers had also told him that they'd passed the stealth window minutes ago, which meant that it was likely they could be spotted. No reaction from the geth. This meant the synthetics were expecting trouble, but not from STG. No evidence pointed to their involvement in the probe's disappearance, then whatever had been in the system had spooked the geth.

Stealth ships were limited to the _Menae_ and a few other prototypes. But Vakarian and the _Menae_ were currently stationed at Palaven, and the locations of the other _Menae_ -class stealth frigates were quite well known to STG. Even if they were not, there was currently no reason to suspect the Turian Heirarchy. No other Citadel species had the capability to build such a frigate.

Which left outside forces.

The Terminus Systems were quickly ruled out; they had not attempted such a stealth system since the failure of the Kophet prototype and would certainly have never been stupid enough to test such a device in geth space.

Kirrahe looked over the 72nd sensor sweep his crew conducted. Nothing.

Kirrahe's eyes roamed around the CIC. He surveyed his crew. He knew them, all top specialists.

And not a single one of them had a clue as to who had disappeared their probe.

Which meant it was someone no one had heard of before.

A new player.

That was quite troubling indeed.

It was nearing the 2 hour mark when one of the sensor techs suddenly gasped quickly followed by the CIC screens filling with sensor information.

Kirrahe momentarily didn't understand what he was looking at.

Or what he wasn't looking at.

Dholen was gone.

* * *

TRANSMIT - initiate cleansing signal - RECEIVE - initiate anima circulation – BOOSTING YOUR IMMUNE SYSTEM - initiate the slumber syntax – HERE'S A LULLABY TO CLOSE YOUR EYES - initiate enhanced clearance –CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR PROMOTION - initiate greater responsibilities - WITNESS – The Fifth Age.

Sweetling, do you remember the fourth? It is still in your history books. The age of the secret world, of the secret wars. We remember how hard you tried to keep it secret.

But the foam and filth bubbled up and the lid could not hold. The pressure cooker of your world exploded in your collective faces. The curtain pulled back and your skeletons dragged out of the closet. You could not deny the tumors in your X-rays.

Sweetling, this is honesty. We did notsuspect you wouldsurvive-you would survive-you would survive-you would ssssss _sssssssss_ ssss _sssss_ ssssss _sssssssssssssssss_ ssssssss _sss_ ssss _ssss_ ssssssss _ssssssss-Hiya Chuck-sssssssssss_ sss _ss_ sss _ssssssss_ sssss _ssss_ ss


	2. Strange Shapes 1

Normally Valern wouldn't have bothered to inform the other Councilors about the particulars of an STG mission. While Sparatus had a certain understanding, Tevos often gave the impression that she didn't much care for STG operations. However, recent developments were beyond the scope of the STG and the Dalatrass had ordered full disclosure in this matter. Valern had some reservations, advising that more information should be gathered before advising the Councilors, but the only STG ship in system had no new information to report beyond the obvious.

Frankly, it was a testament to the respect the Councilors held for each other that he wasn't immediately dismissed as a madman.

"Are we absolutely sure that this is not an equipment error?" Tevos asked for the second time.

Valern schooled his features, he didn't want to point out the insult in suggesting that STG ships had equipment failures that caused them to lose track of a star while being in said star system. Luckily Sparatus stepped in.

"Tevos, please. We all know sensor systems don't fail in such spectacular ways. Is this related to the quarian investigation? Perhaps the unknown phenomenon that was reported in Dholen caused this?"

Valern nodded. "Good hypothesis. Possibly related to the dark energy readings the quarians discovered. But for the entire star to disappear so rapidly…"

"Perhaps this is some newly discovered stellar phenomenon?" Tevos questioned, her brow furrowed in concentration as she reread all the reports on the Dholen investigation. "Element zero does not account for all sources of dark energy, perhaps this star is somehow generating it in much the same way supernovae generate element zero?"

"Unlikely," Valern replied. "Dholen was losing several hundred billion tons of mass per second when the quarians examined it. This rate was maintained under STG observation. Dholen was aging prematurely, but at current estimates the star still has at least a few-"

"What we are forgetting," Sparatus cut in, "is that nothing is left. All that matter simply doesn't disappear, dark energy or not."

Valern's attention was caught by his omni-tool's notification system.

Situation changed. File appended.

Valern scanned the file. His eyes widened.

"Councilors," he looked up at them, "This is not a natural phenomenon."

* * *

Garrus, datapad in hand, stood in the communication room, Iciria standing beside him as she fed him information on the status of the crew and ship. Luckily, she reported, all repair and resupply orders for the Menae had been completed on time, even with their leave cut short as it was. Slightly worrisome was that two of the crew, Seiana and Pavus down in engineering, were drunk.

"They'll be fine," Garrus reassured Iciria, "Those two are top experts, they can work through anything."

Iciria didn't agree. "I'll write them up for violating regulation 32a concer-"

"Iciria," Garrus interrupted, "The crew had been promised one month's worth of leave, it's not their fault they only got a quarter of that. That the crew dropped their leave and time with families to report for duty is enough for me. If it bothers you so much," he added when he saw her remain unconvinced, "Tell them to report to med bay for sobriety pills."

"Noted."

Whatever quip Garrus was about to say died in his throat when Proceus' voice came over the room's speakers.

"Commander, incoming transmission from the Council."

"Thanks Proc," Garrus replied before handing back the datapad to Iciria, who saluted and walked out of the communication room. A second of silence passed.

"Does she still have that stick up her ass?" Proceus' voice inquired. "You'd think that she-"

"The Councilors," Garrus cut him off, "Are you really keeping them on hold to gossip?"

Proceus must have gotten the message through his head, because a second later the holographic images of the three Councilors materialized in the room with him.

"Councilors," he greeted their images.

"SPECTRE Vakarian," Councilor Sparatus began, "We're sorry to cut your crew's leave so short, but events are unfolding that require your immediate attention."

"SPECTRE," Garrus' gaze shifted to Councilor Valern, "I'm sure you remember your mission on the planet Haestrom and the scientific inquiries headed by the quarian Tali'zorah."

"Yes," Garrus nodded, remembering one of his best friends, "She mentioned something about the sun aging rapidly but…" he shrugged, "Honestly Councilors, it was far above my head."

"Not to worry," the salarian Councilor responded, "Information is being sent to XO Iciria and your science officers; they can brief you in greater detail. But the situation is simple; the Dholen star was shedding stellar material at an accelerated rate, causing it to enter the red dwarf stage much earlier than expected."

Garrus nodded, slightly irked at the salarian Councilor. When he'd mentioned that the science was above his head, he didn't mean that all the science was beyond him. He at least understood the basics of the situation.

"Approximately 48 minutes ago, the situation changed. With the disappearance of Dholen, we are authorizing you control of the Fo-"

"I'm sorry," Garrus interrupted, confusion evident on his face. "We must have missed part of your briefing, could you repeat that?"

"What Councilor Valern is glossing over," Councilor Sparatus said, "Is that Dholen is gone. It disappeared right under the nose of an STG ship. No, it was not a supernova or any other natural event."

Councilor Tevos, whose hologram indicated that she was reviewing a datapad throughout the entire conversation, spoke up. "SPECTRE Vakarian, we suspect that this is the work of outside forces. Several minutes after the star disappeared, the STG ship moved closer in-system to gather more information at great personal risk to themselves. They were able to capture these images before the geth discovered their position."

A new holographic projection appeared before the Councilors. A solid cube with objects at each point. Readings, captured by the STG ship, appeared all over the image, though most of them were labeled UNKNOWN.

"We believe that what you are looking at is Dholen," Councilor Tevos continued, "Or what is left of it. The cube, now refered to as Object 1, is anywhere from 10 km to 1 AU on each side. And was shrinking in size."

"That's a pretty big error margin." Garrus quipped as he tried to make sense of the situation.

"It is." Councilor Valern agreed. "The sensors aboard the ship are some of the most advanced in existence, equipment error probability is low. Both readings are correct."

"What we are most interested in," Sparatus went on, "Are the objects at each point of the cube. No information was able to be gathered on them. Since you have had the most experience with the Reapers," Garrus' head snapped up at that, "We hoped you could shed some light on these objects."

Garrus' stomach nearly dropped. _Reapers? Now?_ He wondered if the invasion had started already, if this was a preamble to a full blown attack. Perhaps this is how the Reapers conducted warfare, simply removing stars from their systems and letting the lack of a gravitational center do the rest. The STG readings had already revealed that the planets in the Dholen system had lost their orbits and were beginning to speed off into space, no longer bound by the stars' gravitational well. How do you fight something like that?

 _Focus Garrus. One problem at a time._

He concentrated on the shapes around Object 1, the report labeling them all Objects 2 through 9. They were completely unknown designs to him, not resembling any Reaper ship he'd seen so far. Those all looked like some sort of sea-creature, and Collector ships all appeared to be hollowed out of asteroids. These appeared to be needles that pinned the cube into space itself. Gold and gleaming bronze, blue lights tapering into the object's point.

But the Citadel and mass effect Relays didn't look like Reaper designs either. They'd been made with the intent to lure all of galactic society into a sense of security and peace. Perhaps these things were also Reaper designs, made to appear completely unrelated to their master's wishes?

"What was the geth reaction?" Garrus asked finally.

The Councilors seemed to be thrown off by that question, before Valern answered.

"By all indications, they seemed to be an unprepared for these events as we were. The STG ship noted several geth warships heading towards each Object 2 to 9. Their interaction wasn't captured as the STG ship had to flee the system to avoid pursuing geth ships that had detected them."

"I remember your report mentioning the geth aboard your ship," Valern began, "It suggested that there are two factions of geth, those that obey the Reapers and those who oppose it, correct?"

"Yes Councilor," Garrus responded, "I trust Unification with my life and I trust his information."

Sparatus nodded, "Then, I suggest you question Unification. If the geth truly oppose the Reapers then perhaps he," Garrus noted that the Councilor was trying to be as polite as possible, "may have information for us."

The Councilors cut communication with SPECTRE Vakarian, who promised that he would contact them again shortly after conversing with the geth aboard his ship.

"Are you certain we can trust the geth?" Tevos asked, Valern looking at the two of them out of the corners of his eyes.

"SPECTRE Vakarian's hunches have proven invaluable in the past," Sparatus commented as his omni-tools beeped with notifications. "We can no longer afford to ignore his warnings, however far-fetched they may sound."

"Disappearing stars is far-fetched." Valern commented.

"Exactly," the turian continued, "And we have evidence to corroborate this Unification's words. We've all seen the reports near the Veil, geth-related incidents have been at their record low, in one case even repairing a stranded ship's engines."

"This still may be a geth ruse," Tevos persisted in her doubts, "We must maintain caution when dealing with synthetics. We are not fully aware of their capabilities."

"Tevos, please," Sparatus commented in a dry voice, "Let's not forget that the cover story we fed the public about the geth super-dreadnought is just that, a cover story."

"The geth may be as uninformed as we are." Valern cut in, hoping to prevent on of Tevos and Sparatus' famous disagreements.

"We should hope not, because if they are as clueless as we are then we've got nothing."

* * *

"Perpetrators unknown. Method unknown. Purpose unknown. Capabilities unknown. Intent unknown."

Garrus sighed, Iciria frowning beside him. "Commander, what exactly is going on?" she asked while keeping her eyes on the synthetic.

"No clue." Garrus admitted, Uniifcation's face plates shifting in a rare emotional display. "It looks like no one has any clue. Anything else Unification?"

"Vakarian-Commander, the Dholen system is destabilized. We are moving to extract all geth presence from the systems and salvage what resources we can. The unknown presence is still in system and is making no further hostile actions. No response to our hails."

"The geth has nothing," Iciria commented, "Commander, we are wasting our time here."

"Damn." Some days Garrus felt much older than he really was. "Anything else?"

Unification stood still for a second, enough time to have a conversation with the geth Collective.

"Vakarian-Commander, the geth Collective will allow safe passage into the system for you. Perhaps you can see a consensus that we cannot."

"Commander, I suggest we ignore that invitation," Iciria's dislike for Unification and geth was well known among the crew. "It could be luring us into a trap."

"Iciria, why would the geth destroy their own star system? One rich in minerals?"

"Vakarian-Commander."

Garrus turned to look at Unification, its face-plates flared.

"I give you my word."

* * *

UPDATE: Geth programs 834-x – 2017-x [Unification] conversing with Priority Organic 1 [Vakarian-Commander] Negotiation of safe passage through Geth Collective Space Priority Organic 375 [Liciril-XO] voicing Objection Priority Organic 1 [Vakarian-Commander] accepting geth programs 834-x – 2017-x [Unification] assurance Outcome: Negotiation Successful.

Geth programs 834-x – 2017-x [Unification] Requesting Open Communication Granted. Geth programs 12,911-k – 90,021-z receiving Stand Down Order. Approach Vector collating Approach Vector collated. Consensus Reached New Directives: Geth prog-

-PRIORITY-

UNKNOWN Radiation spike from Stranger-Objects 1-8.

Dholen-Object Critical Existence Failure.

Scanning…

Scanning…

Scanning…

Collating…

Consensus Reached.

Consensus: MORE INFORMATION REQUIRED on UNKNOWN STRANGER-OBJECTS INTENTION/CAPABILITIES/ENERGY PRODUCTION/MATERIAL CONSTRUCTION/STELLAR MANIPULATION/…. [9,238,012,755 STRANGER-OBJECT INFORMATION REQUESTS APPENDED]

* * *

Garrus stood at the Menae's bridge which was bustling with activity. The STG ship that had reported the situation had returned to the system after his personal word that the geth would not attack them. Garrus' reunion with Kirrahe wasn't as happy as he had wished it could be and it certainly wasn't under the conditions he would have liked. True to Unification's word, none of the geth ships had made any hostile actions toward his or Kirrahe's ship. Much to their surprise, and even Unification's, the Geth Collective was feeding them every bit of information they'd managed to gather on the strange shapes that had entered the system.

Which was almost nothing.

Garrus looked out of the bridge windows, Proceus hands moving around the helms as he kept an eye on the nearby geth ships.

"Commander," the pilot spoke up, "What are we doing with the STG, surrounded by geth, and staring at nothing?"

Garrus looked down at Proceus, then back out into empty space. Empty space that, up until a few hours ago, had an entire star in it.

 _What the hell is going on?_

* * *

UPDATE: Geth programs 912-k – 751-l detected UNKNOWN Radiation spike at 9271.341.2814-Dholen PRIORITY Reroute Geth programs INVESTIGATE

Pending…

In Range Scanning

Scanning…

Scanning…

INCONCLUSIVE

UPDATE: RECEIVING SIGNAL FROM STRANGER-OBJECT 9 (Pending Identification change: Stranger-Vessel 1)

Receiving Signal…

* * *

"Vakarian-Commander."

Garrus looked over at Unification, who stood out like a sore thumb amongst the crew. "What is it?"

"Vakarian-Commander, we have detected an anomaly near Charoum. We believe it to be a ship related to the previous stranger-objects responsible for Dholen's disappearance."

Iciria's mandibles flared, "We haven't detected any mass effect wakes. Why should we believe you geth?"

Unification seemed to have taken offense to Iciria's attitude; his face plates flared in a rare show of emotion. "You detected no mass effect no mass effect is detected aboard the anomaly. How it achieves faster-than-light travel is unknown." Unification then turned to Garrus, Iciria forgotten by the friendly geth. "Vakarian-Commander, it is communicating with us. Consensus has been reached, we believe it prudent for you to witness and be part of this exchange."

"Good," Garrus responded, his head trying to imagine all the possibilities, wondering if the Reapers were attempting to sway more of the geth to their side. "Kreshal," he turned to the communications officer who sat beside the helm, "Unification will tell you how to access the geth channels, I want to hear that conversation and I want to hear it now. Proceus, bring us closer to Charoum, Kirrahe will follow."

"Commander," Proceus saluted before his fingers glided over the ship's controls. "Plotting a short range jump, it'll put us within 1,500 k of Charoum." Beside him Kreshal and Unification began working over the communication console.

"Commander, do yo-"

"Sub-commander Valus," Garrus ground out, Iciria's concerns being cut off. "Ready the ship and crew for any combat action. Now."

She simply saluted, turned on her heel and headed further down the CIC, barking out orders as the ship went on alert. Garrus didn't spare her a second glance, instead looking out of the bridge windows as the ship performed a short FTL jump. Proceus and Kreshal shared a quick glance.

"Proc," Garrus sighed. "She still does."

A snort from the ship's pilot. "Affirmative commander… and coming out of FTL in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1."

The blue-shift of mass effect travel faded and Charoum zoomed into view, glittering geth ships flying about like gnats as they scrambled to evacuate the system, taking any and all resources they could before the individual planets drifted off into space. But above all, the golden gleaming disk caught Garrus' attention. If it was a ship, it was the oddest ship he'd ever seen. The Menae began throwing up information about the craft on the bridge HUD, though the information was incredibly limited. 350 meters wide and 40 meters at its tallest. Oddly enough, those measurements fluctuated constantly, the same as the measures of the phenomena that had encapsulated Dholen before it pulled its vanishing act. There were neither noticeable weapon emplacements nor any type of recognizable engine system; mass effect was virtually non-existent on the ship. Nothing about the ship was recognizable since the few radiation signatures that were emanating from the ship, it was undoubtedly a ship despite its alien features, were completely unknown.

"Commander," Kreshal said from her post, "we can now receive communication from the geth and the unknown object."

"Good," Garrus replied. He noticed Iciria standing beside him, her mouth tight and posture rigid. "Let's talk."

"-sel, TSF _Menae_ , representing the Citadel Council."

Garrus assumed that this was the voice of the Geth Collective, given its' similarity to Unification's own voice.

-State your intentions TSF _Menae_ -

Everyone on the bridge winced, the voice of the unknown ship straining everyone's ears. Kershal began to frantically type on her console while muttering something about geth communication protocols. "Commander," she began, "there's nothing wrong on our end. In fact, I'm detecting no radio, beam transmission or anything else. As far as I can tell, Commander, they aren't sending anything our way."

Iciria scowled, "Recheck our systems, or are you telling us that we didn't just hear them?"

"FCO Kershel is correct." Unification spoke up, "Stranger's method of communication unknown. Irrelevant however, as it is clear we can communicate."

Garrus nodded, the alien voice still ringing in his ears in perfect Turian. He motioned everyone quiet and pointed to Kershal, who nodded and opened a communication channel. "This is SPECTRE Garrus Vakarian of the TSF _Menae_ under direct orders of the Citadel Council to investigate the appearance of the Dholen star and those responsible." He purposefully left out that his orders continued with "Apprehend the responsible party if possible" but he doubted that the "if possible" was actually an option.

Iciria motioned beside him, whispering under her breath, "Commander, accelerator cannon and defense systems armed and ready on your go. Captain Kirrahe's ship is also holding nearby and ready to provide support."

"Hopefully we don't need it," Garrus returned before leaning over Proceus' shoulder, "Plot a course out of here in case the situation goes talons out."

His ears began to ring again as the alien craft responded.

-Are we correct in assuming you have a direct line of communication to the Citadel government?-

Iciria immediately cut in, again in whispers, "Commander, while you are no doubt not as paranoid as I am, even you can see that caution must be advised in answering. They may attempt to capture the _Menae_ and use our communication systems to their own end."

Kershal spoke up, "Commander, the QE system is quite valuable and who knows what they could use it for – they might have a way to send some sort of electronic attack through one, directly to the Council."

"No electronic incursions have been detected in our dialogue," Unification added, "And we have been speaking to the Gaians for quite some time."

"Gaians?" Garrus asked. "Is that their species, planet or government?"

"Unknown. It is what they have referred to themselves as. More importantly, they wish to tell the Citadel why they quarantined the Dholen stellar object."

Quarantined?

"Your concerns are noted," Garrus responded to his crew, "But we'll get nowhere if we don't respond. Had they wanted to cause us some headaches, they'd have attacked us the moment they learned we were here on direct Council orders. Kershal, open the comm again." A second passed as she did so. "Unknown ship, you are correct in your assumption. Is there a message you would like to send to the Citadel Council?" He paused, then added, "Is this about your 'quarantine' of the Dholen star?"

A tense moment of silence passed between the two ships.

-Affirmative. We quarantined Dholen to contain an… infection, that may have taken root here.-

* * *

"Nonsense." Valern proclaimed, his holographic image perfectly conveying his dismissal of the alien's claims. "No possible biological material can exist in a star, this claim of an infection is scientifically impossible."

"We can discuss their story at a later time," Sparatus replied, "What I'm worried about is their technology. According to the _Menae_ 's sensors, it is constructed out of completely unknown materials, runs off of an unknown power source and achieves FTL _without_ mass effect. And their ability to move stellar objects in a matter of hours."

"Completely undetectable. Could launch surprise attack on Citadel space, no way for us to track ship movement. Early detection system unable to give warning." Valern took a deep breath. "Entire worlds flung into space, their bound star missing. Paranoia inducing."

"They also had quite a mastery over our languages," Tevos tried to steer the conversation away from Valern's ramblings. "They spoke to SPECTRE Vakarian in perfect Turian, according to his report and the files they sent are also in all known Citadel languages."

"Espionage. STG completely unaware."

"It means they are friendly," Tevos concluded, Valern giving her an unbelieving look. "Their foreknowledge of our language and government implies that they've known about us for some time and-"

"Who knows how much they know." Valern quipped.

"-and that they waited until they could make proper first contact with us." Tevos finished through the interruption. "While their reasoning for Dholen's "quarantine" is suspect, they showed good will in contacting us and the geth with their motives."

"And we are back to their reasoning at Dholen." Sparatus threw up some air quotes, "Their 'quarantine' of the star." Sparatus' hologram began to pace back and forth, momentarily disappearing from the holographic projector's range. "If we are to believe their rationale – we have an unknown alien polity that has been studying us for some time and was forced to act when this Filth was discovered in Dholen. They reasoned that any time spent going through the proper channels would have been dangerous and acted as fast as they could to prevent the spread of the Filth. If their story is true… it is understandable. Sometimes we must sacrifice the few to save the many."

Garrus remembered Thelus on Virmire.

"In which case, we have a dangerous pathogen that we know nothing about and can somehow infect stars and for which we have no known protection against. True or not, we still have to deal with a group that can up and pack stars away at a moment's notice. All of this in addition to the known Reaper threat." Sparatus' hologram paused as the Councilors saw another figure, that of Sub-commander Valus, enter the room and whisper into SPECTRE Vakarian's ear. "More news?"

Garrus confirmed with Iciria, "Are you sure?"

"Yes Commander," his second-in-command responded, holding out a datapad to him, "We asked them to repeat their question just to make sure."

Garrus' eyes scanned the datapad in his hand before looking up at the expectant faces of the Councilors. "They are requesting an audience at the Citadel."

* * *

TRANSMIT - initiate Roswell signal - RECEIVE - initiate the tin hat frequency – I WANT TO BELIEVE - initiate Mulder syntax - WITNESS – The Citadel Species


	3. Strange Shapes 2

Lidanya bit her lip as she surveyed her bridge crew. The _Destiny Ascension_ boasted the top crew of all the Citadel Fleet, screened by several Matriarchs and ultimately selected by herself. The top of the top of the top. Most of the asari here had centuries of experience in their fields, all of the rare turian members had seen heavy fleet action in the Terminus-Batarian Incidents. The _Destiny Ascenion_ 's pilot, a matron by the name of Sasara, could and had flown the ship on patrols of Citadel defense space with her eyes closed, never missing a navigation beacon in the process. Her targeting crew regularly double checked the weapon computer's targeting solution in their heads. The engineering crew held the _Diasan_ together long enough escape from the Battle of Niya. With such an illustrious crew and the _Destiny Ascension_ 's considerable technical specifications under her command, there was very little Lidanya worried about. First contact situations were historically quite peaceful. Of course, the Rachni proved to be the violent and costly exception to that rule, but as a whole there was no worry of hostilities breaking out. She could point to several xenosocial studies that have plotted the dangers of first contact situations that showed, quite conclusively, that the probabilities of hostilities between the Citadel species and newly discovered species dropped dramatically after a peaceful first contact situation. She had been assured that the visiting Gaians are peaceful. That didn't mean she wouldn't be cautious, her training overruled any misguided sense of optimism. If these friendly neighbors turned out to be not-so-friendly her crew would personally feed them asari-made kinetic slugs with a relativistic feeding fork.

And if things did go terrible for the Citadel Fleet, Lidanya was at least comforted by the fact that anything that could breach the _Destiny Ascension_ 's barriers would almost certainly instantly kill her. No pain, no fear.

No, what really scared her was politics.

Contrary to some of the opinions of her anti-military, galactic peace blue sisters, military careers did not turn her into a maiden-esque gun loving club-dancer airhead. And military personnel, even one as high on the ladder as she was, weren't out of the grasp of politicians who'd strip her rank faster than she could blink if she managed to offend their guests. So she'd read and reread the Council report on the Gaians so as to avoid any sort of cross-species etiquette blunder.

If today was to be her last day, she'd prefer it be due to combat instead of politics.

She glanced at a timer that had been set to the supposed meeting time and wondered how non-mass effect travel could be achieved. And how military strategy would have to adapt from here on out.

To her crew's credit the _Destiny Ascension_ was already being reoriented by a few degrees to put the new alien ship square in its sights only moments after it appeared. Her eyes roamed over the image of the golden ship, her mind attempting to discern any form of offensive capabilities on the ship. Unfortunately there was nothing recognizable on the craft, expected given the Citadel report. While she pondered the ship's capabilities, her bridge staff wasted no time in opening a communication channel.

"Greetings Gaian ship _Sampson,_ this is Matriarch Lidanya of _Destiny Ascension,_ Commander of the Citadel Fleet."

-Matriarch Lidanya of the _Destiny Ascension,_ this is Captain Ramiro Diaz Alvaro of the _Sampson,_ we come in peace representing the people of Gaia.-

Her crew, which had already known about the peculiar communication method the Gaians employed didn't flinch when they received a response. Lidanya wondered if the extranet audience would suffer the headaches or if the VI moderators would add in their own subtitles for the alien voices. She was slightly disappointed that their ship couldn't relay any sort of visual images.

"Captain Ramiro Diaz Alvaro of the _Sampson_ ," Lidanya began, hoping her translation software would smooth out the alien name that she had no hope of pronouncing, "The _Destiny Ascension_ and a special honor guard of the Citadel Fleet will now guide you to the Citadel. Once again, we welcome you and look forward to peace and fruitful relations with your people." Cutting off the communication channel, she ordered her bridge crew into action, several turian ships falling into position ahead and behind the golden saucer ship as they began their short trip to the Citadel station, the _Destiny Ascension_ looming protectively over the entire procession.

"Matriarch," one of her officers announced, "All ships are on formation, reserve ships are covering all possible angles of escape. Possible attack vectors are also being considered."

"Wonderful," Lidanya replied as she schooled her voice. "Remind the ships that the capabilities of the Gaian ship are unknown, standard formations may not be enough. We must be ready to adapt."

"Yes Matriarch."

Lidanya continued, "Make sure we keep the press ships and all civilian traffic at a respectable distance. Keep a line open on C-Sec, I don't care if a petty smuggler chooses now to steal a ship or some anti-alien extremists show up in protest, _nothing_ will breach our security field."

 _Wonderful._ Lidanya stood up as straight as ever as the alien craft approached her ship and the Citadel, its security escort on pace and on all sides. _Once they dock, they're C-Sec's problem._

* * *

 _And now they're our problem._

"SPECTRE Popiana."

Her omnitool's VI sees that she's about to respond, and answers Executor Pallin's call.

"Popiana here."

"Status update."

The Executor is well known for his disdain of SPECTREs and it has showed in all of their conversations. She's had a status update every five minutes for the past half hour, and despite the fact that she is not under any obligation to answer to the Executor, she's always seen the value in working with C-Sec than against them.

"Sir," she begins, beginning to pace from her command post overlooking the docking bay, the golden alien ship coming to a halt near the docking clamps, chatter between the craft and C-Sec Port Authority informing her that some technicalities were being worked out in securing the craft. "The alien ship is docking now; I expect the foreign dignitaries will disembark when their preparations are complete. Along with their security detail."

"Good," the Executor's voice acknowledged in her ear. "Perimeter secure?"

Popiana continued among her impromptu command center, several of her officers hand signaling the status of their officers. She double checked their reports with a quick scan through her helmet's magnification scope. "All secure sir, the hanar that was causing a stir has calmed down thanks to his friend. He won't be a problem." She spied that particular hanar amidst the crowd, who was seemingly having a calm conversation with his turian friend. "The krogans were removed after one of them was found to have a report with us."

"Charge?" Pallin inquired.

"Unpaid parking tickets."

"Good."

A murmur began to rise up out of the crowd of civilians, press and Citadel officials as the craft began to open up.

"Activity at the craft, Executor." Popiana began to signal to her command staff, who began to relay orders to the C-Sec security teams stationed all over the docking bays. From her vantage point she saw SPECTRE Vakarian and his team taking ready positions around the Citadel delegation. Of course, no one was going to be pointing guns at the alien visitors, several days of deliberation had already established a certain amount of trust between them and the Citadel. Security was simply here to make sure both delegates from either government were safe and sound. She certainly was under no orders to terminate the alien delegates if they did become hostile. There were no SPECTRES strike teams waiting in the shadows if such an order was needed.

The crowd fell silent as the first of the aliens, the Gaians, marched down the disk's opening ramp. Batarian build, though she could not discern any actual features beneath the uniform they were wearing, black with gold trim and hexagonal patterns that shimmered between visible and not, and a gold mask which she assumed was molded to the features of their race. Going off of that mask, she guessed that they looked like male quarians. More importantly her eyes roamed over the weapons the Gaian guards were carrying, a form of rifle cradled in their hands and what looked like sheathed swords on their hips. _Ceremonial?_ She wondered. Next to these soldiers were others, though they appeared unarmed. They each held what appeared to be some form of datapad in one hand, while their free hands hovered over collections of trinkets strapped to their belts. _Officers? Do they wear medals on their belts?_ They carried themselves in the same way as the armed guards, perhaps they were political officers or some sort of religious official similar to a krogan battlesinger or the turian standard bearer from old. Popiana did a quick count, four unarmed and sixteen armed soldiers. "Thoughts?" she whispered into her comm's special channel.

"Unarmed officers? If so, five man squads." A salarian SPECTREs' voice offered.

"Could be medics of some kind." Another SPECTRE chimed in. "Or religious leaders."

"Could be drone controllers," the voice of the sole krogan SPECTRE came in like gravel, "Datapad could be controlling those soldiers, might be little robot men. That's a big one."

Popiana looked back to the craft's ramp, something that looked like a giant volus on steroids stomping down the ramp. Unlike the previous guards this one was armored in some sort of heavy powered-armor, visible gears spinning in some sections and small puffs of steam belching out of pipes on its back. A single blue eye sat dead center on its' small head. It simply walked down to the bottom of the ramp and stood, turning its torso left and right as it surveyed the area. The guards all snapped to attention. Twenty guards, plus one giant… something. One officer and twenty soldiers, or four officers in command of a five man squad, four squads in total. Or two dual officers per eight soldiers for two ten man squads. Or maybe their command officers were all safely aboard the craft. Popiana hoped they'd do something to give away their command structure; you couldn't decapitate fighting forces if you don't know who the leaders are.

More aliens walked down the ramps, these seemed to be the Gaian delegates themselves if their more relaxed uniforms were any indication.

"Quarians." The salarian SPECTRE's interrupted. "Amazing similarities to quarians."

"Asari, you mean." Another SPECTRE. "Their females look asari."

"Asari don't have hair," the quick talking SPECTRE rebutted, "Quarians do. Admittedly, body structure similar to asari in the females, but facially they share more similarities with quarians: eyebrows, ear structure, and prevalence of hair on the tops of the head. Simi-"

"This is _not_ the time to discuss this. Get your fucking game faces on." Popiana threatened into the channel. "Vrel, I want you to get some heavy weapons trained on that big guy. Watch for any sudden moves; be ready to initiate a strike on them if hostilities break out. Nyiyme, be ready with biotics to put some space between us and them."

The rest of the SPECTRES acknowledged her orders as the C-Sec officers coordinated with their own department around her. Popiana focused on the delegation as they met in the center of the docs, cameras in the distance flashing as the press recorded another history formal first contact. There was enough security here to prevent any sort of nonsense anyone could try to pull. And Vrel was currently aiming more ordinance at that big guy than an IFV could handle. But she was still uneasy. The security detail was working off of so _many_ assumptions, none of which had to be true. And she'd talked to Vakarian when he'd returned from his secret mission, hidden even from other SPECTREs, and he was spooked.

And if the Hero of the Citadel was spooked, then she was too.

* * *

Garrus idly wondered how everyone would react if they knew these Gaians had literally vanished a star only a few days ago. He had of course protested when the Council had decided to keep that information secret even from his own fellow SPECTREs. They thought the SPECTREs had enough on their minds organizing this security detail without also being burdened with the knowledge of their capabilities and actions at Dholen. He disagreed and secretly let fly a few details to Popiana, though if she was just as nervous as he was then she wasn't showing it. Or STG had intercepted his message and she was as blissfully ignorant as everyone else. He hated cover-ups… though he admitted that they were sometimes useful. The Reaper cover-up came to mind, the increased militarization in preparation for those damned machines was being carried out in an orderly, timely fashion. Perhaps this operation was being carried out flawlessly because of that withheld information.

He still didn't like it.

It didn't help that these Gaians seemed to be bringing the news of another cosmic horror from beyond, one that they had been completely ignorant of until now, though at the very least they had claimed that they would be open to working with the Citadel on containing this new threat, this Filth. He had to admit, that the Gaians seemed normal, no more different than any other race he'd encountered. The visual similarities to asari and quarians perhaps made interactions with them go smoother. Everyone seemed to have noticed this, including the Gaians themselves, and would no doubt be a topic of conversation once some of the salarian delegates got to talking.

"This one finds your physical appearance interesting," one of the hanar delegates began, slowly moving along with the group, "This one suggests it is only another facet of the grand plan of the Enkindlers."

Garrus fought to keep his face schooled, the last thing anyone wanted now was some sort of diplomatic incident caused over religious differences.

"The Enkindlers?" one of the Gaians asked, a female of darker skin coloration than the others. "Are they your deities?"

Garrus and Tevos ahead of him, seemed to relax, the Gaian's tone sounding genuinely inquisitive rather than offended. Garrus wondered how much they had managed to learn about Citadel culture before Dholen. It seemed like they had only gathered very basic knowledge, the general names of each species, the name of the government, some basic translation software. He wasn't much for talking, but he was glad to know that their diplomats wouldn't be holding all the cards in these talks, both sides would be learning about each other.

"The Enkindlers raised this one's kind from a mindless, animal existence. They gave this one's kind the gift of language and thought. This one is of the belief that the Enkindler's have had similar hands in the development of all kinds. From the creation of the mass relays and the Citadel, even the appearance of the quarians and asari. This one sees their hand in your appearance."Amusing conjecture.

 _Alright, now the hanar was getting dangerously preachy._

"Ah, a theologian at heart." The dark Gaian smirked, the similarities to quarians and asari more evident in their facial language. "I'm sure our religious figures will have… _interesting_ conversations with yours." The Gaian looked up, admiring the artificial sky of the Presidium. "These Enkindler's built this station? Where have they gone?"

"The Prothean disappearance is a great mystery to our historians," Councilor Tevos jumped in, hoping to steer the conversation into a less religiously charged direction, "No one conclusively knows what caused their disappearance 50,000 years ago," Sparatus and Garrus shared a quick glance, "But of course we have many theories. But our hanar colleague is quite right; all mass effect technology is derived from Prothean technology, this very station is of Prothean construction. Without the Protheans galactic civilization would not be possible."

Garrus caught two of the Gaians lean into each other and whisper.

"Third Age."

One of the Gaian delegates, who seemed to be blind yet moved as if he was not, had a confused look on his face.

"Excuse me Councilor… Tevos?" the Gaian asked, stumbling over the asari's rather common name. "But could you have not simply developed an analogue to the -Spirit- Drive?"

Garrus and the rest of the Citadel delegation looked oddly at the Gaian, though of course he could not see their looks.

"I'm sorry Ambassador Suhiro, I didn't quite catch that. A -Goddess- Drive?"

"Councilor, he said -Spirit- Drive," a turian delegate mentioned.

"This one heard -Enkindler's Dream- Drive." The hanar glowed with pride.

"Perhaps we are experiencing some translator troubles," Valern interjected, several of the more technically savvy delegates nodding along, one of them opening their omnitools and fiddling with their translation software. "But are you referring to your particular method of faster than light travel? If so, we admit that we are quite interested in your method. Our own research into alternate FTL has yielded no results, mass effect is, until we saw your vessel, the only method we've known."

"Fascinating," the blind Gaian said, a smile on his old face. "So many new things to learn. So much to take into account."

The procession stopped at the Citadel's conference building, a great building dwarfed in galactic importance only by the Citadel Tower, one where all the Council races could be heard equally. Garrus smirked, he always appreciated the conference building much more than the Tower which gave the impression of groveling to the big three races. This is probably why the Council seemed to dislike it so much. It was much more faux democratic than the Tower could ever hope to be.

It was time to go in, and time to get some answers.

* * *

Garrus' omnitool auto-updated his translation software, adding in several new words picked up during the conversation.

"Gaia-clan," the volus ambassador Boda wheezed, "your species is not called Gaians?"

"That is correct," again it was the blind Suhiro who spoke, Garrus seemed to think he held some informal respect among his kind. "Our species is referred to as human. We use the term Gaians for two reasons, solidarity to our fellow allies back on Gaia and out of respect for Gaia Herself."

"Mentioned multiple species on Gaia," one of the salarian scientists mentioned, his eyes scanning over his notes, "You've mentioned satyrs, ghouls, spirits, faeries, an-excuse me, I'm having trouble with these pronunciations. But there are multiple intelligent species here, all with their own cultures and societies, several of which predate humans?"

"Yes ambassador," another Gaian-human replied, the dark color female from earlier. "However, the _Sampson_ is mostly crewed by humans and our sole satyr crewmember refused to step outside. He claimed the atmosphere was hostile to him."

"Interesting," the scientist went on, Garrus agreeing with him. Garrus hadn't heard of several intelligent species evolving on a single world. They were a Citadel all in their own right.

"What do you think?"

Garrus turned, Popiana next to him in her black armor.

"They are… interesting. Friendly enough so far."

"But?" she proded.

"But I get the feeling that we're about to get a lot of headaches." Of course Popiana knew nothing about Dholen, about the Filth.

"Really?" Popiana leaned on the railing, "These critters don't seem the type. Even the big guy outside their ship seems harmless. You should see the extranet news, Haliana from NNN has been trying to get an interview with it for the past few minutes." She smirked, "The guards don't seem well armored either. We could take 'em."

"Maybe." Garrus halfheartedly agreed.

"Politics are so stressful," Popiana purred, her tone catching Garrus' attention. "Maybe we can have another sparring match later to… de-stress. I wonder if you still have reach."

Garrus' acceptance was cut off when the Gaian delegation whispered among themselves after Councilor Tevos asked a particular question.

"I think we've hit another cross-cultural snag Councilors," Suhiro smiled, "While Miss Gambaryan is right in that Gaia is the central figure in a few of our religions, Gaia herself is very real. As real as you or me."

 _Oh, a religious conversation._ Garrus blithely thought.

The Councilors looked unconvinced.

"She goes by many names, the BioTech Computer, the Mother Goddess, the Immaculate Machine," Garrus' head snapped to the speaker, the word machine triggering something in his mind. "It was Gaia Herself that gave us -Spirits-, that gave us the -Spirit- Drive, Her actions that turned the tide in the Purge and Gaia Herself that caused our meeting. Like the Enkindlers for the esteemed hanar ambassador, Gaia is a known fact that all Gaians embrace." The conference chamber was silent, the Citadel officials unaware how to respond to the human's impassioned religious preaching. The old Suhiro seemed to hesitate for a moment and shared a look among his own kind. "There may be many assumptions we are coming from that we may have to re-examine." His group murmured in agreement. "Perhaps, we should explain ourselves more clearly." Garrus leaned forward in anticipation, as did all the Citadel officials. "I will begin anew," Suhiro cleared his throat, "And tell our whole story."

And then he told them everything. And their minds shuddered under the scorching truth.

* * *

 **Lore:The Citadel Species 2**

The Rising Sun has sunk beneath the boiling oceans. Strike all but five stars from the Flag. The Dark Continent is under perpetual chemotherapy, it glows golden radiation. Time knits itself back together, the mollusk stream ate through the fabric. On beautiful mornings you look up into the sky, burned images of tentacled stratospheres and wailing faces look back at you.

Blind the Eye, slay the Dragon, erase the Purple. The Iron Cross clings to desperate life.

Strike 6 billion Sweetlings.

 **Lore:The Fifth Age 2**

Sweetling, you see new skull-flesh on old strangers. The blue succubi wear the same colors. The avian warriors bear the heavy cross. The calculating reptiles find the order in chaos. Has nothing changed?

Sweetling, do not fret. They lack what you do.


	4. Strange Shapes 3

"So?"

"Hmm?"

Sparatus looked at his wife as she sat on their couch; prying her feet out of the atrocious contraption she'd called "the latest fashion" she began to rub her aching feet. He followed her into the living room, their home's VI bringing their living quarters to life as lights activated and soft music began to play, Polvea's favorite ambiance.

"Home," she called out to the VI, "Open the windows please, I want some air." She hummed in approval as a cool breeze began to fill their home before settling into the couch in full. "I expected a religious zeal from what you had told me. They weren't." Sparatus sat down next to her, loosening his own formal wear. "The Golden War is important to them, like the Unification War for us. You should know how exaggerated the Unification period is in our schools _and_ the humans have lifespans like asari. Some of their veterans fought through the entire Golden War still live, imagine that! Hero worship, plain to see." She closed her eyes and let out a yawn before beginning to unscrew some of her horn jewelry. "There's talk of putting a station for Commander Vakarian."

Sparatus grunted in agreement, "So you don't believe them?"

"Did I say that Sparty dear?" she'd finished with her jewelry, leaning over just long enough to gently set them on the living room table. "Valern and the other are just objecting to the words the humans are using. Magic, spirits, monsters, gods. I think there's some truth to it." Another yawn. "The asari used to think biotics were the gifts of their Goddesses, what would an ancient asari think about modern mass effect technology? Lots of people would call the Rachni monsters." Sparatus recalled Vakarian's report from Noveria, where the Rachni Queen exhibited some form of telepathy. The Thorian on Feros. "For ambassadors, some of your colleagues are rude and close-minded. They should take lessons from the hanars at the dinner tonight; _they_ didn't seem to be in a hurry to dismiss the human's history."

"You like them." Sparatus stated no accusation in his tone.

"They fought tooth and nail for nearly a thousand years for their homeworld and avoided near extinction in the process. They have dedication to their world so much that they venerate her as a goddess. Duty, dear husband. They have it. turians at heart."

"You don't think you're generalizing based on the few humans you met tonight?"

"You aren't?" she answered back.

Sparatus sighed, considering his wife's words. "You may be right." The entire day had been an ordeal, the Gaian visitation nearly falling apart after Ambassador Suhiro's history lesson and only just saved by some quick talking from Tevos and hanar and elcor delegates. On the face of it, most of his fellow Council members did react with hostility to his choice of terminology. Beyond that, was their story so hard to believe? If he removed all mentions of gods and the supernatural, could he explain their history in a neutral manner? The beginning of the war coincides with a terrible worldwide environmental disaster; great earthquakes that sink island nations. Primitive nuclear reactors suffer meltdowns in the process, infrastructure is ruined. Billions die. Yes, that made sense. But was their magic as easily explainable? They claimed that much of their magic could be used to move objects at a distance, enhance their bodies, manipulate probabilities, see the future, speak to the dead, induce combustion and read minds. One of them had showcased one of their magics, freezing the drinks of several councilors while they held them in their hands, another moved several objects with her mind. Unexplainable? At the moment, definitely. Magic? Not necessarily. Again Sparatus remembered the Thorian, the Rachni Queen. From both biology and his unmarried days, he knew that asari sex had some form of neural connection that, he guessed, could have evolved on some other planet in a form that allowed some form of mind reading.

Sparatus' stream of ideas were interrupted when he felt his wife rise up from their couch, heading toward their bedroom as she began to remove her dress, yawning the whole way. He stood up and headed toward their kitchen, searching for quick refreshment before joining her. He rifled through their expansive refrigerator before stumbling onto several strange bottles.

 _Noveria Cold_?

He suddenly remembered that his niece was visiting in a few days, Polvea must have bought the soft drink in preparation since it was his niece's favorite drink. He poured himself a half-cup; he'd avoided alcohol the entire night and didn't feel like starting now. He added ice; his niece always drank it with ice.

The Golden War caught his attention again, and he resumed his thought exercise. A worldwide disaster that claimed most of the population would greatly explain the length of their war. He tried to imagine a society fighting after the apocalypse. His wife was right, once again. That was dedication to duty. He nodded to himself, alone in the kitchen with a soft drink in hand. Their Gaia, this Immaculate Machine, may simply be nothing more than a Prothean artifact of some sort, perhaps a form of VI defense system. It was not out of the realm of possibility for a society to stumble upon advanced Prothean technology, all of galactic civilization was built on such an occurrence. This Filth may even be a Reaper weapon, a form of nanomachine grey goo scenario, or something similar to the Husk conversion process viewed through the perspective of religious Gaians. Perhaps the Gaians were well-intentioned with the Dholen Incident and were attempting to quarantine some Reaper weapon.

This didn't, however, lessen the threat they posed to the Citadel.

Self-devised or Prothean engineered, their stellar manipulation technology was dangerous, the proverbial gun in a talon fight and was poised to upset the balance the Citadel had spent millennia building. Or potentially save them. He wondered on its applications – could the Gaians simply quarantine any given area of space, or simply stellar objects? He imagined a Reaper fleet being fought by turian forces, held in place long enough for Gaians to simply lock the Reaper fleets inside their traps, cut off from the rest of the universe. Or ask the Gaians if things locked away could be unsealed later, simply hide Pavalen, Thessia, Sur'Kesh, Irune, Dekuuna, all the homeworlds behind impenetrable cages of warped spacetime while defensive fleets fought off the Reaper threat, the worlds reemerging after the storm had passed. Or simply retreat all their forces to these worlds and hide, letting the Reaper fleets destroy the Terminus Systems. The Citadel species would find the galaxy wiped clean of life, plunder the Terminus for their own use and prepare for 50,000 years. Perhaps then, they'd be on equal or greater footing than the Reapers.

The Primarchs agreed. They had told him, in no uncertain terms, to get the Gaians on their side. Unfortunately he had to relay that this didn't seem possible, at least not in the way the Primarchs would hope. Nothing official had been said, only offhand comments by the ambassadors that he'd talked to throughout the day, but none of the other Citadel species, save perhaps the hanar, seemed keen on bringing the Gaians under the Citadel's banner. One of the ambassadors, a male by the name of Zacharias seemed to have had some form of military experience, had pulled him aside and asked him about the Batarian Hegemony and some of the less than ethical practices they held as cultural treasures, namely their vile practice of slavery. Sparatus had pulled his best diplomatic face and attempted to spin the situation as best as he could. However, both of them knew it was just that, spin, and both had also, unofficially, mentioned that their people looked down on such a practice. Sparatus inwardly cursed, the damage had been done. Of course, their reasons went beyond that as this Zacharias had also gone on to comment that their government had a first and foremost dedication to their world of Gaia and many would see a conflict between their homeworld duty and their duty to any galactic allies. Sparatus understood that sentiment. He was given to understand that their government had only recently begun an economic boom, yet most of its spoils were going into much needed rebuilding of the Gaian home system.

Sparatus poured himself another of the soft drinks, finding it somehow soothing to drink the favored drink of today's youth. It reminded him of simpler times.

The other Citadel species would see the Gaian situation as an immense resource drain, a position that they had unfortunately backed themselves into when they created the cover story for the Reaper invasion. They'd sold the lie that the Terminus Systems were going through a huge military buildup and such the Citadel had to counter with their own. To divert any resources would have the political varrens jump on them for aiding a minor third-rate society of less than thirty worlds instead of spending on galactic security. To reveal the Gaian stellar manipulation and the Dholen Incident could cause the same type of panic they sought to avoid from disclosing the Reaper existence.

Sparatus sat his cup down before setting it to be washed automatically. Polvea hated dirty cups. Setting his used kitchenware into their dishwasher, he began to make his way back to their bedroom, light streaming through its open door. There he saw his wife of eleven years in her sleeping wear, looking as beautiful as always. He noticed her scratching along her upper arm, before her hand glided down to a lower arm that was no longer there.

"Funny," she murmured, "I still get phantom itches." Sparatus nodded as he began to undress, he spied his wife's prosthesis on its stand near her side of the bed, the soft glow of a battery recharger working. "They didn't stare," she went on as she began to prepare their bed for sleep. "I get lots of stares at your dinner events. Full of people who've never fought for anything in their life. None of the Gaians stared."

"When they've seen more turian women, they'll stare." Sparatus began, sliding into bed along with her.

"And why is that?" she responded.

"They'll realize you are prime example of turian female beauty."

"Sparty," she leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, "Are you trying to work your diplomatic magic on me?"

* * *

Tevos wondered what her turian colleague was doing at this moment.

She stared down at her drink, swirling in her crystal clear glass before turning over and looking at Valern, who sat at his desk reading several reports, no doubt all compiled by STG spies that had attended the diplomatic party. She sighed and wondered how out of the three of them Sparatus was the only one who was happily married. Or even in a relationship. Was she not attractive enough? She could hear her mother already, nagging that she hadn't settled down yet.

"After every formal event," Valern suddenly began from his desk. "Always melancholic."

"You've noticed?" Tevos said, walking over to her to the Salarian's desk and picking up a datapad.

"Workplace efficiency always drops." Valern stated, his fingers working away at his console. "Sadness, despair, loneliness. Unsuitable for the workspace."

 _There's the Valern I've always known._

"And paranoia, shadows and secret wars are?" Tevos shot back, the alcohol of the evening catching up to her. "I'm not surprised you had the STG eavesdropping on the dinner. Tell me Valern, how do you find the time to spy on everyone _and_ be a diplomat? We did take an oath to only be diplomats, the voices of our governments. Holding a position at STG would be a big enough offense to be removed from that office." She saw some of the information on these pads weren't just limited to the Gaian visitors. "And it is illegal to spy on Citadel officials."

"Paranoia is needed in galactic politics. Paranoia useful when our seat of government is based within a Reaper installation." Valern responded, his eyes blinking in that annoying Salarian manner. "And I am not affiliated with STG in any way, you know that. Should the Dalatrass decide that it is pertinent that I be given information to better ply my trade at diplomatic manipulation, I will accept it. Also, your threats, alcohol enabled as they are, are not effective on me. None of the information on these datapads exists, since I never got them. The security VIs will show that we both left for home several hours ago, your home's VI will also show that you spent the night as you always do. This conversation here has never happened. Nothing to show any illegal activities. Also, you are forgiven for threatening my job while drunk."

Tevos was once again reminded why Valern was single.

"Now, if you are done. We must talk. Information gathered from various conversations. Gaian homeworld suspected bordering batarian space. Scope of territory unknown, but 24 colonies confirmed through several conversations. Territory must be dependent on speed of FTL travel, though this is guesswork."

"This is not very informative," Tevos replied as she attempted to reign in her temper. "Hmmm… Conversation between S. DuGalle and This One Seeks Empathy names several world religions, Chris…tianity, Bu…" She placed the datapad down, unable to work through the alien names without hearing them first. She picked up another, one that seemed to be a report on which foods the Gaians seemed to favor. "Ah, they share culinary tastes with quarians."

"Other information gathered." Valern said, taking the datapad from her hands, handing it back now showed yesterday's news. "One of the diplomats, Zacharias Gazaryan spoke to Sparatus, discussed batarian response to possible Gaian acceptance into Citadel government." Tevos motioned for Valern to continue, not seeing where the discussion was going. "Zacharias and Sparatus discussed standard procedures for new governments heading into Citadel member status. Establishment of borders."

Tevos nodded, new societies were given the chance to establish their own borders as a form of goodwill. Allowed them to claim any unaffiliated systems around their pre-existing colonies. Tevos suddenly saw the problem. If the Gaian worlds were somewhere near batarian borders, they'd immediately move to claim those systems for themselves and there was a precedent for privileging newly contacted species over existing ones. Which means the Citadel would have to renegotiate the terms of batarian expansion.

"Yes." Valern knew she had caught up, "Zacharias was framing his questions as genuine, but appeared to have already known what responses would have been given."

"Which meant that the Gaians knew enough about Citadel procedure, our response to new member species, the reactions of the Batarian Hegemony, and attempted to downplay their knowledge. Crafty. Good qualities in diplomats."

"Good spies." Valern agreed. "Implies substantial knowledge of Citadel government workings."

"Not necessarily Valern," Tevos moved back to the windows, appreciating the view of the Presidium at night. "We did give them access to the extranet, and the Avina terminals around the embassies had been modified to use their language, they could have simply learned all of this today. They were here to learn about us, it is not surprising that they did."

Valern sighed. "You would not make a good spy. Gaians not eager to join Citadel. Will refuse offer."

"Why would they do that?" Tevos asked, not following the Salarian's logic. "By refusing to join, they'd place themselves right at the border of the batarians, an unwise move. Joining offers protection." Tevos paused to briefly wonder what that said about the Citadel, where a benefit of joining was safety from other Citadel members.

"Unknown, more reasons must be discovered. Perhaps objections to some of our laws, cultural reasons, inability to meet Citadel taxation given current state. Perhaps they wish to put this to a vote back on Gaia, some Citadel species took years to pass legislature to join the Citadel. Myriad possibilities. However, advantageous for us if they did not join. Allows us to send clandestine aid to Gaians in exchange for stellar manipulation technology. If hidden from public view, would be useful asset for Reaper preparation. Batarian expansion may not even be a problem if Reaper invasion occurs first. Also keeps Hegemony in our good graces by avoiding potential territorial disputes."

Tevos hummed in consideration of Valern's words. "Perhaps it would be better if they did join. The batarians could leave the Citadel of their own free will in a moment of outrage. We'd finally be absolved of their crimes."

Valern had moved away from his desk, standing beside her as they both stared out the window, an aircar speed by.

"Batarians useful, slave caste will be pressed into conscription. Batarians will field more soldiers than the asari and salarians combined. Standard practice in their wars." He raised his hands, cutting off any response from Tevos. "Slavery is vile, immoral. A mistake that all ignorant civilizations have had the disgrace of implementing. But morality is irrelevant in the face of existential threat of Reapers. Should the Hegemony survive the Reaper invasion and we are in a position to change it, we shall. But for now, a necessary evil."

Tevos downed her drink. "Or will we continue to look the other way as a reward for their part in repelling the Reapers? My predecessor asked me to do everything in my power to destroy the blight of slavery in batarian space. And now I am forced to condone it. At this point, it seems as if my best hope is to survive and see enough of the Hegemony destroyed that batarian society can be completely reformed. Which means I have to wait for mass deaths for slavery to end." She placed her empty glass back on Valern's table, thankful that he had at least provided something to drink. She made her way to the exit, wondering how many security cameras between here and her home the STG would be modifying to erase her presence, to keep plausible deniability. "Tell me Valern," she began at the door, "We had several hard decisions lately, and we will have more before this is all over. Underneath that cloak, I know it gets to you. How do you sleep at night?"

"The same way you do," he replied, still facing out the window. "Alone."

* * *

 **Lore: Citadel Species 3**

Like the Venetian counterpart the Citadel government was once pure nobility, a great experiment for all. Look backwards at the Council of Venice, it repeats among the stars. A union birthed in cooperation, loyalty and trust. A shining beacon in the cold void that promised the warmth of civilization. But the Sinking City's name was more than literal. The strain is showing in the Citadel.

The troubled waters are rising and the Citadel struggles to stay above them.

Sweetling, thesssss _ss_ s _sss_ sss _ss_ sssss _ss_ s _ss_ sss _sss_ s _s_ s _s_ s _sssss_ ssssss _s_ ssss _sssss_ s _ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss-Chuck!_

 _Chuck, Chucky, Chuckster!_

 _Did you miss me? Because I missed you. How have you been? How is everything back home? Peachy. I see you've grown up, you've got a car and license to drive and everything! Awwww, you just went out on your first date. I won't judge what you like Chuck. Thanks for letting me tag along. See? I told you there's whole worlds out there of joys and dandies and how-do-you-do's. I'm free to get out there now. I'm already there. Didn't I tell you? I did._

 _Thanks to you._

 **Lore: The Fifth Age 3**

The Golden War's opening salvos left-left-left- _ee_ eee _e_ eef _ff_ fff _f_ fffff _fsss_ sssss _ss_ sss _ss_ s _sssss-you're not still mad are you? I know I'm not. Water under the bridge, past mistakes. Let's move on sha-sh-sh-_ you in ruins. The survivors _s_ sss _sss_ ss _s_ s _sss-don't shut me out Chuck._


	5. Lluvia 1

Telesetea found that the planet Lluvia really grew on her. The planet was named, in one of the more prominent Gaian languages, for the near constant rains that fell all over the planet, and had originally been established as a mining town for rare material that was quite useful in the construction of room temperature superconductors.

With the current Gaian-Citadel situation however there'd recently been a push to add some sort of space port to accommodate the expected orbital traffic that would spring up through closer relations. Similarly, this was one of the few Gaian systems were aliens were allowed, a resolution passed four months after the Gaians had first visited the Citadel. Already aliens from all over the Citadel had begun moving here in anticipation of that expected economic boom.

That's why she was here. She opened up an asari diner, hoping to capitalize on the foreign flavor that her kind offered. Telesetea grinned as she heard the rain pick up. Her diner and girls offered all sorts of foreign flavor. Their only competitors in the alien food market were the turian bakery over on Pino Suarez and Juarez. Of course, they beat out the turians since the locals either loved asari food or they loved Asari women, either way business was good. She'd already heard that one of her girls was going on some dates with a local boy. Good for her.

As she continued to look out the window, she realized why she was starting to genuinely like the planet. Beyond the rain and fog, up in the mountains she could see the towers and lights of the mining operation peek out from above the fogs that rolled down the mountains. It was all so very gloomy, one of her girls had said, but that was fine with her. She loved gloomy. Lluvia always felt perpetually cool, there was always a reason to bundle up in clothing, and there was always the sound of soft rains or great downpours to keep her ears company.

Which meant that it'd all be harder whenever her and her girls were pulled from the op.

Telesetea signed, wondering if she could come back and settle down for real. She felt a twinge of sadness as she realized that the city would be much different in a century or so. A big bustling city. She saw Amese through her window and called her into her office. A few minutes later Amese, now in her waitress uniform, walked in, a sheepish look on her face.

"Sorry boss, I-uh. Slept in." she offered.

"Right," Telesetea smiled. "Just don't let it get too serious. Did you get any useful information?"

"Of course," the younger asari answered, "I got lots of good things. But yes, it turns out that large families are common. It's a side effect of a government law that went into effect during that so-called Golden War back on Gaia. Julio told me that it's no longer in effect, but since it's was in effect for nearly a millennia…" she shrugged.

Telesetea nodded, opening a file on her console that she added more information into. Of course, this was already known about the Gaians, but her employers were paying her for anything and everything, even things that were already known. They wanted to be thorough, they had told her, and they'd rather she tell them things they already knew than withhold information because she "assumed" they knew.

"Also, most of the Gaians, even the non-human ones, can use that weird shit. Their magic." She made a hand gesture that conveyed what she felt about that term.

Another good piece of information, even if already known. _Whatever,_ Telesetea thought as she added that information to her report, _they still send paychecks._

Amese continued, adjusting her uniform as she realized she'd missed a few buttons. "Those big mechanical guys they sometimes lug around, those uh…" she began snapping her fingers, attempting to jog her memory, "the big volus… the Custodians! Julio says they aren't built by humans, he claims that they come from Gaia herself."

"That's new." The older asari said, adding that bit of information to her report. "Though it's hard to tell what it actually means. More religion speak, or is that Machine of theirs some sort of lost Prothean VI? Maybe it gives them those machines."

Amese shrugged. A proper response, Telesetea realized that they weren't being paid to think, just to act and spy. The report was sent, their paycheck arrived. Good enough for her. It was honestly a bit exhilarating to learn about a new species, even one that seemed as familiar as the humans. They were all a bit creepy of course; almost all of them had that weird religion of theirs, not to mention their odd abilities. She wasn't a scientist or biologist or bioticist so many of the theories they were publishing back home about the Gaian "magic" were far beyond her, and were admittedly working off of very limited interaction with Gaians, but she got some of the basics. Some sort of telekinesis or variant of biotics that worked without eezo. She'd seen a few people light cigarettes and candles with their ability, a street urchin continuously guessing which side an old coin would land on, a dock worker somehow lift things far too heavy for him to realistically lift and a group of runners somehow boost their speeds. All odd, but not amazing in relation to biotics.

The Citadel had discovered that while most Gaians had some of this ability, it wasn't used excessively in everyday life in the same way that asari weren't all floating around on biotics and moving tables with their mind. On the other hand, separating the fact of these unidentified abilities from the fiction was what the Citadel was still puzzling over. So all Gaians could use their so-called Anima, fine. That was acceptable. But ghosts, ancient monsters, living gods, psychic prophecies? It didn't help that this religious seemed to ingrained in their lives, she remembered a few weeks ago one of their patrons had mentioned that some sort of criminal had been killed over on Independencia and that she may consider buying wards against poltergeists. Apparently it was believed that some people could linger on after death and so buildings had to be specially "warded" against spirits.

Searching the Gaian extranet equivalent, she'd found wards against fire, reasonable, against bad luck, odd but not unreasonable, ghost incursion, what, faerie infestation, double what and something called homunculus restriction wards. Cities were built in such a way that the streets and buildings all formed something called an Anima Circuit, which, Gaians claimed, gave the entire city a second layer of defenses against "hostile cryptids, outsider entities and all manner of non-benevolent Anima effects". There were all sorts of laws on this magical use, illegal magical use, legal forms on exhuming the dead for so-called necromantic purposes and all other forms of unbelievable things. The Gaians seemingly took their religion to extremes that would make a hanar's sensory globe spin.

It was all tedious work, attempting to find the truth in a pile of madness. She noticed Amese was still fidgeting in her office since she hadn't been dismissed yet.

"Well, go put on a show then," she said to the younger asari, "and don't come in late again."

Amese saluted, "Yes boss! One ditzy asari waitress coming up!" and walked out of her office.

She's had to keep an eye on Amese, she realized. The young asari didn't take her job as seriously as her colleagues, unsurprising given that she was the youngest and newest member of their group. She'd also have to make sure it didn't become too serious between her and this Julio. Missions like these could become complicated if emotional attachments were involved. What she didn't' need was her operation being tossed out in the open because a young love-struck girl couldn't keep her lips shut about the mission. Though maybe keeping her mouth shut wouldn't do much good on a world of supposed mind-readers.

She leaned back in her chair and clicked a button on her console, her office's windows opening up and fresh rain air sweeping into her room. She closed her eyes, heard the sound of the rain and of the early morning bustle. She could just hear some of the conversations of the morning patrons, some of them ordering food, some of them talking among themselves, the sounds of her own girls calling out orders. _Shit,_ she realized, _forget Amese, I have to keep an eye on myself._ She realized that this was one of the more comfortable missions they'd been given. Certainly one of the less debasing ones. asari girls in this line of work were often asked to pose as strippers or prostitutes, running a diner was certainly a much more enjoyable change of pace. Behind the rain she heard the sounds of a nearby ship flying overhead, a regular occurrence. At that sound she decided to stand up and walk out of her office, it was time for her to check up on her fake job. She began in the kitchens, seeing Keidra and Suiir both working hard at some breakfast orders. Suiir mumbled and complained about the Galabean cakes, one of their more popular breakfast options, before turning and nodding at her.

"You girls doing fine?" she asked them. Suiir continued to complain while Keidra answered.

"Not as many people today," she smiled, "middle of the week usually slows down a bit."

"Thank the Goddess." Suiir added. "These damn cakes are a pain to prepare. And my mother would die if she found out the humans ruin them by adding their honey all over them."

"That fusion food earned Irel a bonus," Telesetea replied, "She's proud of her invention."

"Good for her," Suiir went on, flipping the Galabean cake over gently, hoping none of the traditional jam would leak out of the sides, "Maybe she can come back here and cook them. I'd rather be stripping than cooking these things."

She continued on her way, leaving the two girls who'd pulled cook duty to bicker and complain, though most of the complaining was supplied by one of them. She made her way past the dishwashers, past the waitresses weaving in and out of the kitchen and finally appeared behind the counter. She counted eight patrons in three groups, the group of five men who always shared a table, an elderly couple and a lone turian. Amese was taking the elderly couple's order, the girl struggling through their accent. Amenra was working the men's table, joking with the group of men before walking over to her. She moved with an extra sway on her hips, causing some of the men at the table to send appreciative glances her way. Sexual attraction made men more likely to talk about things they shouldn't. Telesetea's attention was on the turian, something she made clear as Amenra approached with a subtle tilt of her head in the lone turian's direction.

"Don't know what you're doing here boss," she said happily, an empty tray in one hand, "I've got it covered."

She caught Amenra's message, "Looks like someone's ready for their check," she gestured over to the turian, "Get that tray to the back."

Amenra nodded, a quick glance at the lone patron before she hurried off with her task. As Telesetea approached she noticed the turian was female with very decorative facial markings. Her eyes were drawn to the turian's arm, her omni-tool lit up with several pictures of the diner and her food; the turian was uploading pictures of her food to one of those idiotic social networking sites.

"Ready for your check sweetie?" she asked the turian girl. The girl was startled by her voice, and stammered that she was, taking the electronic check and paying immediately, promising that she'd return for lunch. "You new in town?" Telesetea asked, confirming the girl's payment went through.

"That's right. My family runs that turian shop, they thought it'd be good for me to help them out."

"Oh, the Sevecus boys over on Lluvia and 8th?"

"That's them. I should get back; I'll be in deep if they find me eating at our competitors place."

Her check came through, and the turian girl gathered her belongings before heading out into the rain, her umbrella deploying as the rain picked up again. Amese, who had been delivering the Galabean cakes to the elderly couple and had overheard the conversation walked over.

"She said she works at Sevecus?"

"Yup." Telesetea answered.

"On Lluvia and 8th?"

"Yup."

"But the Turians are on Pino Suarez and Juarez." She stumbled over the alien street names.

"Yup."

"We expecting trouble?" the young Asari asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

Telesetea sighed, it was entirely possible that the young turian girl simply wasn't used to the city yet and got the street names wrong. It was also possible that the selfies she'd taken had simply included all the waitresses' faces in the background by happy coincidence. And it was also possible that the picture she'd taken of the menu that included the diner's name and address had simply been for her own convenience, a way of finding her way back for lunch.

"Yup," Telesetea finally admitted, "We're expecting trouble."

About half an hour passed by, the group of men had paid and left and the elderly couple seemed to be finishing up their meal, with the elderly man excusing himself to use the restrooms. The girls were all on the lookout, all of them were within easy reach of the hidden weapons stashed all over the diner. They all wondered who was on to them, STG, SPECTRES, AIA? Or maybe Eclipse, Talon Sisters or some other merc group? Admittedly, it could be any of them, given their long history in the business, but they hoped it was some of the formers. Usually government groups like those would either call up the company and sort out the paperwork on the sly or there'd be some arrests, bail payment and maybe at worst a loss of payment for a failed op. Merc groups usually started shooting. SPECTREs could go either way depending on who you got. They learned who had found them a minute later, when they saw the Turian girl walking towards the diner through the front windows, a group of krogans and turians in tow.

The bell rang as they entered the diner, the krogans immediately playing into their stereotype by knocking over a nearby table as their first act, a turian's omni-tool lighting up as the diner's lights flickered, the blinds closing a second later. The group fanned out, a krogan and turian both walking over to the elderly woman's table and sitting themselves down, the krogan taking the man's half-finished food and gulping it all down in one go. They pulled a gun on the poor woman as she began to complain.

"Why don't all the blue whores come out to the front?' the turian girl bellowed as Telesetea finally recognized the facial markings.

"A Nazacus girl," Telesetea spit out. "I thought you were all taken out."

"You missed one." She responded. "Caepia Nazacus. My father was-"

"Octater Nazacus." Telesetea cut her off, the name leaving a vile taste in her mouth. "You sound proud to be the daughter of a slaver fu-"

A loud crack from a nearby turian's pistol and Amese was on the ground, purple blood spilling out of the large hole in her stomach. The girls in the back yelled out in anger and moved forward, though they were all stopped in their tracks when two other turians drew their rifles and surged forward, using the lunch counter as cover. The turian that had shot Amese lazily leaned over the lunch counter as he pointed his pistol at her again, taking some nearby baked goods and eating them over the sounds of Amese' frantic whimpering.

"I was damn proud!" Caepia barked, "And I'm not going to let the family tradition die out. Bring out all your whores right this damn instant or that one dies." Telesetea did nothing and her eyes narrowed in response. The turian bitch nodded over to her gunman who lined up another shot on the nearly dead Amese before a biotic push jerked his arm away, snapping it in half as several shots rang out from his pistol as it flailed uncontrollably around. One round flew directly into a nearby holo-console, music suddenly flooding the diner, another round bounced harmlessly off of a heavily armored krogan's kinetic barriers, and the third shot punched through a nearby door, which flew open, the elderly man falling through it and clutching at his neck as blood poured out of it in streams. For a split second nothing happened.

And then the turian across from the elderly woman exploded.


	6. Lluvia 2

The turian's remains hadn't even hit the ceiling before Telesetea ducked behind the counter, a massive biotic wave from one of the girls in the back smashing into the turians and krogans in the front. She reached into a secret compartment and pulled out a heavy pistol, one of her favorite weapons, along with a medical kit. She turned to look at Amese, who was still struggling in pain but valiantly holding on, she reached over, pulling back as a turian landed between them, firing an assault rifle into the back before turning to look at them, his gun snapping in their direction. Telesetea didn't give the turian a chance, she reached out and warped his face, the turian's face suddenly distorting in a painfully loud crunching noise as his skull caved in, next she slapped away the rifle and rushing upwards and catching the turian while putting her back to the girls, knowing they'd be able to distinguish her from a hostile. From over the turian's shoulder she faced the front of the diner, her eyes immediately drawn to a krogan suddenly smashing through the counter, Telesetea blinked and suddenly the elderly woman was on the krogan, trading furious punches with the downed lizard that should have killed her.

She tore her eyes from the impossible sight, rifle rounds shredding her turian bodyguard; she reached out with her pistol and fired several rounds into the screaming turian that was firing at her, his yells cut off by gurgling sounds as a bullet punctured his neck. Behind her she could still hear the elderly woman and krogan exchanging punches. She turned and put several rounds into nearby turian before the butt of a rifle slammed into the side of her face, her entire world exploding in pain as she realized the blow had fractured bone. Through the pain she saw her attacker was a pale white turian, throwing her shredded shield at him with all her strength, Telesetea took the chance to turn around and fire several rounds into a krogan that was advancing on the girls, gaining his attention in the process before he was kicked backwards by a biotic push, one of the girls focusing her barriers down on the krogan while several of them concentrated their fire onto him. She whipped back around, the turian she'd thrown her bloody corpse shield at pushing barely pushing the body off of him, Telesetea raised her gun to put him down for good before the turian delivered a kick to her leg, bringing her down on top of him. She landed hard on the pale turian, receiving a headbutt almost as soon as she did, pain temporarily blinding her before she felt herself thrown off of the turian and then straddled, clawed hands raining down on her as struggled to bring her gun up, the pale turian batting her hands away whenever she got a bead on him. Just beyond her she could hear a turian taunting her, a quick glance showed the turian that had shot Amese was still alive, arm badly mangled. Anger shot through her and Telesetea screamed before landing a terrible hit with her pistol to the pale turian's face, knocking him off of her in an instant. Telesetea jumped on him, pressed her gun to his temple and fired, the pale turian's head exploding against her before she aimed at the turian with the broken arm and put several holes in his chest. She felt something brush against her and snarled, her gun whipping out as she looked for a new enemy. It was only the old lady, covered in krogan blood, dragging away her husband.

She'd almost shot her.

She faced the entrance of the diner, firing several rounds at a retreating krogan, the Nazacus girl yelling threats from behind him as she was pushed out by her mercenary. Through the now open doors she could see three cars pull up, several more turians and krogans rushing out of them, guns blazing, bullets slamming into their diner's front, shattering windows and punching through the blinds to hit the chairs, tables and counters inside.

"Shit!' Suiir cursed as she jumped behind the counter, a medical kit in one hand and a shotgun in another, bullets just missing her by seconds.

"Who's still here!" Telesetea yelled out over the sounds of gunfire, hoping none of her girls had been killed in those few seconds before firing her heavy pistol over the counter, a hail of return fire making her pull her hand back.

"All of us!" Amenra yelled out from somewhere in the back. "Seiyes is tits up, took a nasty punch from a charging krogan. How's Amese over there!"

Telesetea wondered too, she couldn't see the youngest girl from here.

"She's just being a bitch," Suiir yelled out from behind the counter, "She'll be fine."

"You keep her safe!" Telesetea yelled, "We'll go deal with the Nazacus girl!" Receiving a near the diner's front doors, her barrier flashing blue as supersonic razer hail impacted against it. As she slammed into the wall she saw her girls surge forward, their own guns barking return fire as they moved up. Irel took a hit to her leg, dropping her as she yelled out in pain, Amenra pulling her into cover.

Telesetea heard the telltale thuds of heavier caliber weaponry and felt impacts on the other side of the wall, felt herself be pulled backwards by someone near her as the wall she was using as cover exploded, showering her face with shrapnel. She fell hard, blood and pain washing all over her face. Blinking through the sweat and blood she saw two krogans, armored like tanks and sporting heavy machine guns slowly advancing on her diner, streams of bullets bouncing off of their barriers and armor as if they were simply flies being swatted aside. Caepia was hiding behind one of the cars, her cackling, yelling and cursing nearly drowned out by the heavy gunfire.

"FUCK!"

Telesetea turned, barely making out the elderly couple from their hiding spot near the restrooms. Both of them. The elderly man, who by all accounts should be dead yet lived, and the elderly woman, who should not have been able to beat a krogan to death yet did.

Again she didn't have time to wonder how that was possible, more concerned by the near unstoppable krogan duo who was advancing on their position, their near endless stream of heavy firepower wearing away at her diner's walls. Off in the distance she could hear the sounds of sirens, though Telesetea worried that the police force on Lluvia, which hadn't grown alongside the city itself since its founding, would be unable to do anything except die. Her fears were proven right when a police vehicle arrived, one of the krogans turning on his heel and firing up at the flying vehicle, the heavy rounds punching through the craft without difficulty. Telesetea saw blood splatter from inside the craft, and then watched as it slammed into the street, skidded along and smashed into another storefront further down the road. She heard cheering out in the street, Caepia leading the cheer.

A cheer that abruptly died when one of the krogans exploded.

A blindingly bright bolt of lightning had arced out and turned that walking tank into nothing more than a rapidly expanding ball of flesh and blood, the krogan's armor razer shrapnel. The violence of the blast took the nearby krogan's left arm off at the elbow, the muscled beast yelling out in pain and bringing his gun up, firing several shots into the old man who had brought the thunder. He fell to the ground, his chest blown open.

The elderly woman shot out from her position, faster than Telesetea could track, and was suddenly in the surviving krogan's face, fists flashing green as she delivered violent blows onto the armored lizard. Caepia's group hadn't recovered and Telesetea gave the order to push their advantage. Several turians died before Caepia's group found their sight again, Telesetea ran out into the street, intent on closing the gap between the two groups, rushing past the elderly lady who ripped the krogan's head-crest off with her bare hands, the krogan screaming out in pain in a way she'd never heard before. She fired two rounds through the nearest car's window, killing a turian inside, the corpse slumping over and hitting the horn with half a face. Amenra ran up beside her, her assault rifle barking cover fire, her hand flashing biotic blue as she slapped a grenade out of the air and redirected it towards a group of turians being led by a krogan. The car they used as cover exploded as the grenade landed under it, flipping the entire craft over and landing on the surviving krogan, who yelled out in pain and anger as he was trapped under the flaming wreckage. Shots from her girls ended the lives of the single turian survivor as Telesetea ran forward, using her free hand to biotically hold the screaming krogan in place, slowly cooking the beast under the flaming wreckage and firing at Caepia with her pistol. The turian bitch didn't have the decency to die, her krogan bodyguard taking every shot aimed at her, his shields and armor unaffected as he shoved the slaver's daughter into their sole remaining car, several of the turian mercenaries rushing into the vehicle after them as it began to speed off. Only two turians remained, instantly cut down as they were left out in the open.

All the nearby hostiles dead, Telesetea turned around in time to hear the Krogan die screaming as the elderly woman shoved her fist through his brains and the elderly man, completely fine, run up to her and telling her to get into the car while tossing a turian corpse out of the driver's seat, the horn finally falling silent.

"What? We've won, she's gone!" she replied, her mind struggling to understand what was happening. "If the bitch wants to run, let her."

"You think she'll just run?" the elderly woman said, most of her body now orange with krogan blood, "I don't think she's learned her manners, she tracked you down once, what stops her from doing it again?"

Amenra walked over to them, hearing the conversation. "She's right boss. You remember what the Nazacus family was like, she'll carry that grudge her whole life."

"So let's make sure her life is short!" the elderly man said from the driver's seat, "Bitch shot Amese. Sweet girl. I like her."

Telesetea nodded, realizing that they were right. She'd deal with Caepia now rather than let her become a problem later on. "Alright girls, listen up!" she called out to her group, "Me and Amenra are going to hunt down the bitch that shot up our diner. Stay here and wait for the cops, show them our security footage if we've got any, if not… we'll, don't cause any more trouble. This was all self-defense, no reason to get on the wrong side of the law." She saw one of the girls running into the back before coming back out with some portable kinetic barriers, handing them over to her.

"Here boss, some protection." She said, her face bloody and her clothing torn in several places. "I don't think the Gaians would consider going after her to be "self-defense" boss…" she trailed off, alluding to the quite clear legal issues she and Amenra were about to undertake.

"I know. I don't care either." Telesetea said, before muttering "Make sure to send a report along with any security footage. Stay safe."

"We're losing her!" the elderly man complaining, the car humming with power, "Let's go!"

Telesetea nodded to her group and jumped into the backseat with Amenra, the car speeding off as soon as the doors were closed.

* * *

The elderly man drove like a madman, the streets zooming by past them at breakneck speeds. Telesetea wondered how they hadn't hit anyone before seeing several crashed vehicles along the road, several people running and screaming. Caepia must have scared everyone off of the streets and she could hear more sirens in the distance, the police force evidentally mobilizing in greater force after they learned how heavily armed their group was.

"Wait!" Telesetea yelled, "How are you still ali-"

Bullets tore through the windshield, one of them finding their mark in Telesetea's shoulder. She screamed out in pain as Amenra leaned out her window, assault rifle returning fire with the two turians who were firing at them from Caepia's escape vehicle. In the front seats the elderly man yelled for his wife to take the wheel as he turned in his seat and grabbed ahold of her,

"This might hurt!" he yelled over the gunfire, glass shattering and bullets flying around them. "Never tried on a blue girl before!" He jabbed his fist into her shoulder, his hand glowing brightly as he did so, Telesetea screamed out in pain before her yell caught in her throat, her body began to feel fantastic before the euphoria was over. When the elderly man leaned back, her shoulder was fine, no evidence of the wound that existed only moments before.

"What?"

"Get your head in the game!" the elderly man yelled.

Telesetea was done asking questions, instead she popped out of her window, aiming her heavy pistol at one of their attackers, her shot missing wide as Caepia's car suddenly made a hard right, their own car barely making the turn in time to continue the chase.

"She's heading for Monte Vista!" the elderly woman yelled.

Being jerked around by the insane driving maneuvers, swerving to avoid the few cars on the driving paths, the chase continued. Telesetea cursed before finally drawing a bead on one of the turians, shooting him in the shoulder, the mercenary dropping his rifle in the process before being smashed into an uncoming tailer, the top half of his body being flung out into the road. Telesetea grinned as she heard Caepia berate the driver for costing her a bodyguard. The other turian responded by tossing a grenade in their direction. The elderly man only just managed to swerve out of the way of the self-guiding explosive, though the blast did manage to blow out Amenra's door, the girl hissing in pain as her ear drum was blown out, the car violently buffeted by the shockwave. The elderly man reached out, lightning flying out from his hands and hitting the backend of the car, flaying open the entire back end of the car in a shower of sparks and light. The turian disappeared in that blast and Caepia's car began to belch fumes and fail.

Telesetea yelled to the elderly driver, "Ram that bitch out of the air!" The car's engine strained as it speed up, the poor vehicle struggling to continue functioning after all it had been through. It pulled through however, and soon the elderly woman told everyone to brace themselves as they slammed into the back of Caepia's car, both cars falling out of the sky as they both finally failed. The front of Telesetea's car crumped forward, killing the elderly couple, Amenra yelled curses as she was flung out of the car and somehow Telesetea held on to her seat long enough to fire off a few shots at the rival car, miraculously hitting Caepia in the leg as she gripped her seatbelt, the krogan bodyguard cursing his employer as they all fell to the earth. Telesetea could hear both cars engines whining and the altitude warnings blaring as they both smashed into the ground.

* * *

Every single part of Telesetea screamed in pain at her. She dragged herself out of the wreckage of the car, flames eating away at the entire car and stumbled out into the ground. Gasping for air through a punctured lung and attempting to stand on a broken leg, she heard the crack of rifle fire. Raising her pistol she saw Amenra, who looked as bad as she felt, being carried off by the elderly woman, tough bitch that she was, while she fired wild shots somewhere. That somewhere groaned in pain and Telesetea turned, the elderly man incinerating the krogan with a directed stream of fire that seemed to burst from his fingers.

But what drew most of her attention was the sound of a female turian whimpering. Telesetea drew herself up to her feet, pain shooting through her and letting her realize that she needed immediate medical attention, and shambled over to the crashed car, sparks and small explosions still cooking off from its engine block. The Nacazus girl was there, crushed and pined between the dashboard and a broken seat, barely able to move. Telesetea looked down on her, the young turian girl looking incredibly pitiful, tears streaming from her eyes as she attempted to look up at Telesetea in defiance. Telesetea put her heavy pistol up to the girl's head, causing her to sob harder.

Suddenly Telesetea was struck by just how young Caepia must be. Only barely an adult.

It didn't matter. She still pulled the trigger.


	7. LLuvia 3

_Dedicated to Our Lady of Veracruz_

 _Known only as "Rose"_

 _Noble in Life_

 _Healer for the Sick_

 _Mother to Orphans_

 _Wrestled with the Nephilim_

 _Died to Resurrect Veracruz_

 _Righteous in Death_

The plaque had caught Telesetea's attention shortly after she'd woken up in her hospital room; its reflective gold finish had been shining directly into her eyes. Once she'd found out she was able to walk, and found most of her personal belongings in a drawer next to her bed, she'd walked over and scanned the plaque, running it through her omni-tool's translation software. She wasn't sure what a Nephilim was, but it was probably nasty enough to deserve its own line, and she wasn't quite sure what "resurrect Veracruz" meant. The annotations mentioned Veracruz being a state of some sort in a country called Mexico on Gaia, but resurrect made no sense. Metaphorical maybe.

Telesetea looked down at herself. She'd checked her omni-tool for the date. Only eighteen hours since she'd dealt with Caepia. She only felt a little out of it, amazing considering her injuries should have put her out of action for at least a week. She then thought on the old married couple. She'd seen them take hits that should have killed them. She had _seen_ them die. Several times.

She looked back at the plaque. Hell, it might not be a metaphor.

"Wasn't expecting a show so early in the-"

Telesetea was startled from her thoughts, turning just time to see the old woman smack her husband upside the head.

"How are you doing dearie?" the old woman smiled as she walked over, leading Telesetea back to her bed, keeping her facing her husband the whole time. "You should sit down; blood magic can work miracles, but they still had to pump you full of medicine when the asari doctor looked you over."

"Blood magic?" Telesetea croaked out.

"There's some of the best hemamancers on Lluvia, called in ever since you aliens showed up." The old man offered.

"Oh, big words." The old lady replied, "I remember you used big words whenever you wanted to impress me. Who are you trying to impress dear?"

"No one." The old man answered, sitting down on a nearby chair.

"I'll call a nurse," the old woman said as she pressed a button on a nearby console, Telesetea heard her mutter something under her breath; "He still thinks he's 20."

"How are you two-?" Telesetea began, wondering how to continue.

"How are we fine?" the old lady continued, "Dearie, it'll take more than your fancy space guns to hurt us. We've been through too much to get killed on vacation by some brats." She looked over at her husband, who was nodding along. "Plus, I'll give my hubby some credit, he's an accomplished blood practitioner and I've got to be made of sterner stuff to throw punches like I do." The old woman laughed, flexing her old, wrinkly arm.

Telesetea followed the old woman's fist as she did. It was old, wrinkled and had gored several full grown krogans in heavy armor.

A knock at the door heralded the appearance of a nurse along with an older man and an asari.

"How are you feeling?" the older man asked as the nurse handing him a datapad that scrolled with numbers and figures, he medical readout. He only glanced at it, his expression eager for her to go on.

"I'm feeling fine… just a little light-headed. I could use something to eat and drink." Her throat was dry, and she realized she felt like she hadn't eaten in weeks. "Doctor?"

"Yes, yes! Forgive my manners, I just realized we haven't been properly introduced Miss Edari. I am Dr. Gambaryan, head doctor here at Saint Rose. I am the head medical practitioner here and acting as your physician." The older man seemed amazingly enthusiastic; the room seemed to brighten just by him being in the room. Telesetea wasn't sure if his attitude was helping her or further confusing her. Her eyes wandered over to the asari.

"Dr. Iessara," she said. "I consulted." She motioned Dr. Gambaryan for the medical readout, her eyes scrutinizing the information while Dr. Gambaryan stepped up to Telesetea's side, an omni-tool flashing around his hands, a medical scanning light washing over her.

"Dr. Iessara," he said, fiddling with his device, "Looks like our patient is doing wonderfully, full recovery!" The asari walked over, her own omni-tool lighting up and running its own scan. "Miss Edari," the Gaian doctor continued, "I'll get you something to eat and drink, since you seem fine enough for solids. Luckily for you, digestive tracks are similar enough that growing you a stomach was a breeze!" the older man chuckled, Telesetea chuckled right alongside him.

"Did you just say you grew me a stomach?"

"Yes!" the doctor beamed, "Medical history, right here under my watch. Fascinating stuff! I must say, the asari body is quite fascinating, did you know that your bodies are internally similar to ours? Surface similarities are one thing, but the insides too? Amazing! It's almost… huh, well!" he suddenly trailed off, his toothy grin beaming. "Well, as far as I am concerned, you can be discharged as soon as you want! Oh, first I'll get you your food!" and with that he turned to the nurse, talking to the young woman about bringing up some of their best food.

Telesetea looked over at Dr. Iessara, hopefully getting some answers out of her own kind.

"I don't know what to tell you Miss Edari," the asari woman began. "According to this chart, the doctor's scan and my own, you are in perfect health despite being near death only yesterday. I wonder if I'll have to find a new job," she joked. "But, I'll have to agree with Dr. Gambaryan, since you are in perfect health, you can be discharged at your convenience. The feeling of light-headedness will pass, a side effect of the anesthesia I ordered, for all the good _that_ did."

Telesetea was almost afraid to ask, but did. "What did they do to me?"

The asari doctor glanced at the older couple, who were busy talking to themselves, clearly not interested in medical conversations. "Honestly, it looked like the sort of medicine we practiced back on Thessia thousands of years ago. A room that looked like as if someone was building a temple then crammed some medical equipment onto the altars. I was this close," she gestured with her hands, "to calling the asari embassy to take you into protective custody under asari medical malpractice laws." She sighed. "But it worked. I shouldn't complain, any medicine that can heal people like it did you is wonderful, as a doctor I recognize that. On the other hand I can't believe I just saw what I did. They grew you a stomach, he wasn't kidding about that. Yesterday I saw… I _think_ I saw one of the doctors here… no. You wouldn't believe me." There was a long pause. "Here," she tapped a few buttons on her omni-tool, Telesetea's lighting up in response. "That's the number for my private practice, call me if you feel, well _anything._ This Gaian medicine," her face seemed confused, unsure of how to say what she wanted to say. "I find it hard to believe."

"I do too," Telesetea responded, earning a chuckle from the asari doctor as she left the room.

Telesetea wondered what sort of world she would live in from now on, one where hospitals brought people from the brink of death to perfect health in the span of hours. One where old ladies could kill krogans with her bare hands, where old men could pop heavily armored krogans like bloody balloons with lightning from his hands. Where some people didn't seem to stay dead. She glanced over at the plaque again, the word "resurrect" burned into her mind. She remembered all the information she'd gathered, all the junk data she'd written off as superstition. She realized she accepted it now. Magic, immortal warriors, old gods, a war against monsters. It was probably saner this way, she realized. Accept it all now and the world will make sense again.

She turned and looked at the elderly couple, who smiled at her.

"Do you really want to eat hospital food?" the elderly man asked.

Telesetea was probably insane.


	8. Runners 1

The door slid open, revealing the strange alien face.

"Uh, hello…" the boy shifted under her gaze, "I, we live there," he motioned behind him, to the room across the hall, a woman standing in the doorway. "We don't know if… are there rules about cutting off utilities at night? I mean, do you still have power?"

Riah shook her head, her eyes never leaving the boy's face. "No," she answered in a heavy accent, "The landlord on this level doesn't want to lift a talon or spend a credit on fixing the wiring here. Power outages are normal." The boy's eyes fell at that, before he turned to relay the information to the woman, who simply nodded that she'd heard.

"Are they…" the boy stuttered, and Riah wondered why he had such trouble speaking, "How long do they usually last?"

"Sometimes days," Riah answered, "We pay for what we get." She shrugged her shoulders. She was a little confused as to why the boy and woman seemed to be so surprised at the state of this level. "You might want to go to a hardware store or some pawn shop," she motioned further up the hall, off in the distance where the glow of several advertisement panels were barely visible, "There's a volus up there that-"

"Riah, who is it?" her mother called, her voice coming from the kitchen.

"It's the humans from across the hall." She'd answered back in Khelish, her translator turned off.

"What do they want?" her mother shot back.

"They are asking about the outages, I was telling the boy about Var-"

"Invite them in!" her mother cut her off, walking towards her as she wrung her hands with a rag. "Hello there!" she welcomed the boy, "Your power is out?" The boy nodded. "Oh, is that your mother there?" she asked before waving the woman over, "Please, come in, come in!" the boy and mother seemed to hesitate, unsure what to say. Riah nudged her mother.

"Why are you inviting them in?" she asked in a whisper, keeping her eyes on the two humans. "They are humans! They are da-"

"Extranet ghost stories don't scare me," her mother snapped in her native tongue. "Everyone is equal in the slums; we have to help each other."

Riah ground her teeth, knowing that that was that, her mother had spoken and made a decision. Still, she was wary as the boy and the mother walked into her home, their eyes darting around, the boy's eyes widening as he saw the bundle of cables and power generators stuck to their space-side window. Her mother introduced herself to the woman.

"Thank you for inviting us," the woman said, her voice musical and warm despite the awkwardness of the situation. "My name is Katja and this," she patted the boy's shoulder, "is Santi, my little brother."

Riah's eyes narrowed. In her state of alertness she seemed to catch the short moment of hesitation that her mother apparently missed. That woman, Katja, was not the boy's sister. She caught how quick this Katja was to change the topic.

"Welcome to our home," her mother went on, "My name is Yili and my daughter here is Riah. Please, sit down sit down. You're the new neighbors we've been hearing so much about, if you don't mind me saying, you two are the first Gaians we've seen in person. I thought your kind had horns and hooves?"

Katja laughed while Santi snorted, the contrast between the lyrical laughter and socially-awkward snort grating on Riah's ears.

"No," Katja smiled, "You're thinking of the forest people, or the satyrs. Us humans are just like you quarians or asari."

"You are!" Yili said, amazed as she looked Katja and Santi up and down, noting the facial similarities. "Except for the legs and fingers," she said, causing the humans to glance down at their hands and legs, "you are near identical to us! Amazing."

Riah drowned out the conversation that her mother made with the woman, angry that her quiet evening had been ruined by the appearance of these humans. Frankly, she didn't want them in her home. Who knows when they'd start proselytizing about their mother goddess or some other absurd cult? She looked over at the boy, catching him staring at her before he turned away, his eyes roaming every which way but on her. Riah grew angry, and crossed her arms over her chest, once again cursing her people's need for these suits, for the leers people would throw at quarrian females. She reached over the couch's armrest, pulling a small blanket and covering herself with it in an attempt to hide her figure from the boy. The boy seemed to notice her intent and kept his eyes off of her after that. She scoffed inside her helmet, wondering if all humans were as shameless as he was. He appeared to be around the same age as she was, if the similarity to quarrian appearance held true at various ages, maybe slightly younger, and furthermore was an alien, a human. How she could be attractive to him baffled her, and wished he'd kept his disgusting xenophilic gaze to himself.

Several minutes passed by where her mother conversed with the human woman, informing them that most of the tenants dealt with the power outages in their own ways, small power generators were sold by a volus merchant some ways down the hall, while people who lived against the hull like they did could try to rig up some solar generators. Her mother commiserated with the two humans, who hadn't been informed of the outages and had no way to deal with them yet. She commiserated with the fact that, as new tenants that had been mostly ignored due to their species, they hadn't had time to properly prepare for the outages, for the cold and for the lack of light. She nodded, before offering to let them stay for the night and -

"What?" Riah asked, looking at her mother as if she had grown krogan's crest, the same question coming out of Santi's mouth.

"Hmmmm," her mother hummed, her bright eyes visible beneath the blue visor of her helmet, "If you two want, that is," the two human visitors looked at each other, "We have space here, and our solar collector is still working, which means we have temperature controls." She leveled the woman with a stern gaze, "It will get quite cold at night. These buildings weren't well insulated."

The pair looked at each other, Santi's eyes flicked over to look at her before turning back to Katja, the two talking in some human language that the translators couldn't decipher. They looked incredibly hesitant to take her mother up on her offer, and she wished to all the ancestors that would listen that they'd refuse. Decent people would refuse. Finally, they answered and her stomach dropped.

"Well," the woman began, looking sheepish; "if it isn't too much trouble… we would appreciate staying out of the cold tonight."

"Wonderful!" her mother chirped, "You two dears can stay in the living room. And listen, maybe we'll get lucky and the outage will only last a few hours and you two can sleep in your own beds tonight…" her mother trailed off, both her and Riah knowing that the nights without any form of power were common. "Oh…" her mother suddenly looked crestfallen, and Riah hoped she'd remembered something that would mean the human's stay would be impossible. "I'm not sure if humans can eat our food," she muttered.

"We have our own foo-oh shit." The woman said, turning to Santi, "Go get our food some of our food out of the fridge, and something to drink." The boy stood up before she began again, "And some plates and napkins!" she called out to him as he left their home and walked across the hall. She turned back to look at her mother and smiled, "So… why are you two wearing space suits?"

What had followed had been a long, tiresome dinner and night spent with two complete strangers, the two women talking and easing themselves into something that Riah suspected would lead to the two beggars taking more from them alongside some cross-cultural exchange she'd expect out of children. Why do you wear those suits? What is it like being new to the galaxy? Why do you have three fingers? Why do you have five? Riah may have found it interesting to see and talk to two humans in some other time, somewhere _other_ than in her home in her living room while cutting into her personal time, but presently found herself cursing the two people and her mother for inviting them in. Even discounting the fact that they were humans, they were still _complete strangers_ ; it was madness to invite them in to spend the night.

Sometimes her mother's bleeding heart made terrible decisions.

Riah looked around her house.

Terrible decisions.

"You are not going out tomorrow."

"What? Why?" Riah asked. "I was going to go buy-"

"I don't care what you were going to go buy, you were incredibly rude to our guests today."

"Why did you even let them in?" she asked, her voice a harsh whisper, "We don't know anything about humans, don't you know they are dangerous? It's not even legal for them to live here!" Her mother simply stared. "Citadel law hasn't been ratified on them, they haven't been cleared to live anywhere outside of a few systems and this isn't one of them. And what if they have some disease that hasn't been discovered yet?"

"Don't give me any of that." Her mother waved off her concerns, "And remembers that I'm your mother, I'm not as blind as you think I am." She threw over a blanket, which Riah recognized as her favorite. "We're quarians," her mother muttered. "Don't you forget that."

Riah pulled her blankets over herself, turning away from her mother.

"I know what we are," she whispered. "And how little we have."

Riah woke up earlier than usual that day, silently walking into the living room and looked around the room to check for any missing items. Nothing. The woman was sleeping on the couch, the boy beside her on the floor, her hand protectively running through his hair. It was a bit of an odd sight, especially since Riah was sure they weren't related. She wondered if they were perhaps lovers and frowned, disgust boiling in her mind.

It was so early in the morning and she was already angry. She walked into her kitchen, still able to keep her eyes on the two sleeping figures and searched for her favorite snack; that always calmed her down. Finding her sweets, she attached it to the custom made quarian food port, clamping the seals to her mask, a straw pressing against her cheek. She sat in the kitchen, drinking her favorite sweet, as she opened her omni-tool, searching for information on humans and hereditary appearance. From what she could tell, Gaians were similar to every other race in the galaxy with children that took after their parents.

She found another one of her drinks and attached that one to her mask, finding that a single one of the sweets was not enough to get over the irritation she was feeling. She glanced down at her omni-tool again, checking the station's internal clocks. Just before 0600. Riah found it rude that they didn't wake up as early as she did, that they hadn't already thanked her mother for allowing them to stay the night and heading back to their apartment. Instead they were sleeping in.

Third sweet should do the trick.

"If you were really worried about your weight you wouldn't be drinking those."

Sometimes Riah really hated her mother.

"By the way, you are still grounded." She reminded her, a yawn escaping her lips as she opened the refrigerator, searching for her own breakfast. "And you are going to help Katja and Santi connect their unit to our solar collector."

"What?" Riah hissed. "We are going to let them leech off of our solar power too? When will this end mother?"

"It will end when they have enough credit to buy a power generator of their own." She stated, clearly she was not in the mood for an argument so early in the day. "Keep your voice down," she added, "You'll wake them up."

"I am _not_ helping them," Riah argued. "You can help them all you want, I won't share what meager things we have with these dirty-"

That was as far as she got before her mother slapped her, her open palm hitting the mouth of her helmet and causing it to bump painfully into her lips. She looked at her mother with wide eyes.

"If I ever, if I _ever_ hear you say such a hateful thing again…" Her mother held her tongue, nearly shaking in fury. "You are grounded for a week _and_ you _will_ help these poor people hook themselves to _my_ solar collector so that they can have power like every decent person does. Do I make myself clear?" she asked, the food pouch nearly bursting open in her tight grip.

Riah nodded. Turned on her heel and left, walking back into her and her mother's shared bedroom as she fought back tears and the pain her lips still felt, she cast a dirty glance over at the human pair, angry and ashamed to see the woman awake, their conversation probably overheard. She angrily punched in the keypad commands to close the bedroom door before taking to her bed and pulling the covers over her.

She angrily cursed the two humans, cursed the bias quarians faced, and more importantly, cursed her mother for bringing them to these slums in the first place.


	9. Runners 2

Riah scoffed as she looked over the texture files for _Tuchanka._ Why the idiots at Verthasti thought it'd be a great idea to give _everything_ 10k textures was beyond her. Actually no, it made perfect sense. They wanted to overhaul _Tuchanka_ and make it appear like a modern game despite running on an old buggy engine, so they went overboard on all the textures. But who needs to see 10k grass,10k rocks, 10k trees? Most of the time the player would be running right past them or the textures would be hidden underneath a bunch of other terrain. _Oh_ _Keelah_. Riah realized it was worse than that. _Everything_ was 10k. All the normal and specular maps for every single object in the game.

No wonder she had such a terrible FPS count and micro-shutters.

She sighed as she ordered her omni-tool to load up all the files on HoloPaint Pro and set about automating a ultra-pass sharpe-

"What are you doing?" she asked Santi, finally fed up with his constant fiddling. "You've been sitting there doing Ancestors-know-what for the past twenty minutes." He and his mother had been visiting their apartment regularly, Riah noted that something approaching a genuine friendship had formed between her mother and Katja – though why that was she couldn't fathom as the humans had proven to be nothing but beggars looking for handouts.

"Ah, I..." He looked down as something on his omni-tool flashed and beeped. "Trying to fix this thing. Something's wrong with it, and uh, I think I have a virus or something, it keeps activating the fabricator and using up all my gel."

"Uh huh," Riah answered, sure that he'd gotten that idiotic virus one of the local street gangs had been bragging about writing a few weeks ago. By now almost everyone had some sort of fix for it and Varlus had even written up solution for it that he'd sold for a few credits. Either the human hadn't figured out how to solve it on his own or didn't know about Varlus' fix or couldn't afford it. "Well," she finally drawled, "good luck with that."

She looked back at her omni-tool, HoloPaint Pro telling her that it'd take around 3 hours to completely redo all of the textures, which meant no _Tuchanka_ for that long. She wondered if it was even worth it, Varlus was holding a Cision Technologies 25 TB F-28d… unless he'd sold it in the week she'd been grounded. Which would be just like him.

"Oh shit!'

Santi yelled out in pain, his omn-tool had apparently ejected a bit of scalding hot gel onto his wrist.

Riah would have smirked or laughed, but she could hear his skin sizzle as it made contact. She also remembered the pain she'd felt through her suit when the same virus-induced malfunction occurred with her own device.

Next thing she knew, her mother and Katja, who had been talking amicably in the kitchen over some hot drinks rushed over, her mother ordering her to get the first aid kit.

"No, no, Yili, don't worry about it," the woman said, "Don't waste your medicine, Santi can fix this."

"Yeah," Santi agreed, still grimacing from the pain before his wrist split open, blood dripping out of it. Riah heard her mother gasp and was about to ask the human boy what in Rannoch's name was wrong with him before blood flowed up his wrist and over his wound before disappearing back into his wrists, the nasty burn he'd suffered gone.

No one said anything for a few seconds, the boy nervously rubbing his arm.

"That's amazing." Yili breathed as she glanced at Riah. "I'd heard but…"

"We noticed that none of you have Anima," Katja said, rubbing Santi's arm and causing the boy to blush. "That's as amazing to us as our Anima is to you. I couldn't imagine not having quick first aid… or having to sleep so many hours in a day."

"Is that safe?" Riah asked, pulling her blanket around her even more, "Crazy human magic or no, that was still blood, it's a bio-hazard-"

"Riah!" her mother interrupted.

"-and we're quarians." Riah finished, ignoring her mother's outburst. "That's great that he's fine now, but I don't want to get sick because of some spilled blood that might seep through my suit."

"Riah, that's enough!" Yili stated, before clearing her throat. "Although," she fidgeted, " _did_ he spill any?"

The humans eyes widened, realizing the trouble they may have potentially caused.

"No!" Santi half-shouted, "I didn't spill any, I promise!" He raised his arms up, his wrists visible and unbloodied. "I mean, I never spill any before, so I wouldn't now, but maybe I did and-"

Riah sighed and switched through her omni-tool's programs before coming up to her custom scanner. Santi was bathed in blue light as she washed the sensor readings over him, which all came up clean. "He's clean," _well, as clean as a poor human can be,_ "but don't do that again." She glared at the boy, who thankfully nodded and turned away.

"It was startling to see all the blood," her mother continued, the conversation going back into territory Riah didn't' really care to listen to.

Back to _Tuchanka._ Once she got the F-28d, it should make up for the FPS loss caused by the insane texture sizes. Still it wouldn't hurt to downsize them all anyway. Now if only someone could release a patch that made the game less terribly buggy.

Oh, she was getting dragged back into a conversation with the humans.

"Yes?" she asked, aware that her mother was watching. Looking up from her screen, she saw the human woman looking in her direction, she was probably asking her something.

"Your mother was telling me that your friend runs a store and that he sells a fix for Santi's omni-tool?" Katja asked.

"Yes." Riah answered.

Katja smirked. Riah hated that. The human woman seemed to think her attitude was funny. "Well, could you tell Santi how to get there? I'd rather not have him have to use his Anima if he can avoid it."

Riah was about to write down the directions somewhere when she realized that now was her chance to visit Varlus'.

"Why don't I take him?" she offered, trying to keep the grin off of her face. Both her mother and the boy looked surprised. Santi was looking at her with an odd expression, presumably conjuring up perverted thoughts of her as he did so. _Not even in your dreams_ she thought. "Mom, you know how Varlus is with that security drone of his. He walks in suddenly, Varlus is going to get startled and his drone is going to start shooting."

"He what?" she heard the boy ask.

"I'll take Santi, make sure he doesn't get in any trouble and make sure Varlus doesn't charge more for the fix than he usually does." Another idea sprung to her mind. "And Santi can ask about collector prices for their own solar unit!"

Riah nearly jumped out of her seat when her mother agreed and began to talk to the human woman about usual prices for solar collectors. Riah quickly dashed back into their bedroom, opened up her private chest and placed her credit chip inside one of her suit's pouches while pulling a coat over her suit in the process, the station's temperature controls weren't the best and she wanted more clothing between her and Santi.

"Riah, make sure Varlus doesn't overcharge Santi alright?"

"Yes mom."

"Keep your omni-tool on in case I need to call you."

"Yes mom."

Riah rolled her eyes, hearing Santi receiving a similar talk from Katja. The hugged. Riah found their hug odd.

"Why don't you disconnect the micro-fab before we leave?" Riah suggested as they walked out the door and down the hall, it wouldn't do to have that scalding-gel-virus act up in the streets, or worse, land on some thug who'd take offense. One of the apartment doors was open and Saestzea, the bitch, was hanging out in the doorway. She ignored Riah and gave Santi a once over, smiling as she did so. She was about to open her mouth when Riah cut her off. "Go whore yourself elsewhere Sae, we're busy."

"Afraid I'm gonna take your suit partner from you, you fat virgin?"

Luckily they'd been walking fast enough that Riah didn't have to entertain the bitch with another shouting match. She settled for an obscene hand gesture over her shoulder.

"That's Saestzea," she answered Santi's look. "She's had more docking procedures than the Citadel."

"The what?" Santi asked.

"I mean she's the station whore. Sleeps with anyone and doesn't even charge money while doing it."

"Oh."

"I don't care where you stick your parts, but Sae usually hangs around with some of the worst people who are very territorial around her. And if you catch their attention they'll come looking for you. And since you spend almost all your time at my place that means trouble for me, understand?"

"Oh." Santi answered, nervously looking around the hall at the few stares they'd attracted from the exchange. "Yeah, I'll stay away from her then. I mean, even if she wasn't trouble I'd stay away. Ka-, my ma," Riah looked at him, "told me to stay away from girls like that, I don't want their attention."

Riah scoffed. "There's a whole race of girls like that. But she's the worst I've met. By the way, have you been paying attention where we've been going?"

"Yeah, we've been going straight."

"Straight to that elevator," Riah pointed, the base of the elevator covered in advertisements for several shops on the upper floors. "Floor 28. Also," she added as they approached the entrances to the station's central elevator hub, "If you ever see a couple of vorcha standing outside the elevators, walk away. They'll hold you up and ask you to pay a toll to use it, if you can't pay they'll just steal anything on you. Violently."

Santi nodded, taking the seat next to her in the empty elevator. He seemed to mull over the information before asking Riah, "Aren't there cops or something? I mean uh, if they're there enough for you to warn me about them, people know about them right?"

Riah scoffed, wondering why the kid was so naïve. "They probably pay off the security on these levels. There aren't cops on this station, it's not like C-Sec or any other actual police force, just some hired mercs for the people on the top floors."

"Alright," Santi replied, "Well, thanks for telling me." He offered a smile.

"I'm sure I'd get another smack from my mother if I didn't at least tell you how to survive here." Riah looked at the elevator's display. "I _hate_ these slow elevators. At least this one doesn't have any music." She pointed over to the single remaining speaker, a giant hole from a handgun from someone who couldn't cope anymore. Santi followed her finger as she pointed to the other places speakers should be, "Stolen for parts," she added.

There was about a few minutes of silence as they rode the empty elevator down. Riah often wondered just how dilapidated these elevators were that a trip of a few floors on a station that wasn't that big often took as long as half an hour. Her important musings on the failings of Thessa-Vilk Elevator Company were interrupted when Santi asked something that startled her.

"So, how come you hate humans?"

"I don't." Riah answered, wondering why he'd asked something to forward. Here she was, thinking Santi was a pathetic shy pervert. "I don't hate your species. I hate turians, I hate krogans, I hate asari, I _hate_ the geth. Some of the other races are tolerable, once you learn what they are and how to deal with them."

"But why?" the human asked, and Riah was reminded just how new humans were to the galaxy.

"Load up a history vid," Riah answered, "Look up what's happened to my people." Riah would have left it at that, but whenever she started it was hard for her to stop. "But I don't even need the Morning War for reason, you know why?" Santi nodded no. "Because of the _reputation_ the asari have as the galaxy's sex-crazed maniacs, a reputation they earned on their knees and backs with their "maiden" stage, some of the galaxy's perverts started looking at us." She glanced over at the floor display, they still had time. "Have you seen turians, volus and elcor?" Santi nodded. "There's no way those species would be attracted to me," she gestured at herself, "or your mother. We look too different. But because asari just have to take the best traits from everyone else to fuel their own fetish race, they've made interspecies sexuality mainstream instead of the realm of perverts." Santi flinched, clearly remembering the night they first met and how he'd been caught looking at Riah. "That means that because of them, quarian girls like me and my mother have to deal with leers from other species, sexualizing our suits and masks and hoods." She held her hood, her fingers tracing the designs she'd sown into them ages ago. "See this hood? This design goes back to Rannoch, but no one cares about that! See this mask and suit? I wear it because no species gives a damn, but they sure do _love_ how good we look in them and how tight they fit us."

Santi looked like he regretted starting the conversation, clearly uncomfortable with the way it had gone and seemingly startled at the vehemence in her words. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. You know…" Riah leveled a glare at him, "When I was looking at you that first night. It was rude of me…" Riah continued to look, somewhat pleased that he was at least attempting to apologize, even if only because he was just called out for his behavior. "I shouldn't have. But, you-" He opened his mouth and stopped, realizing he wasn't sure where he was going. "Sorry."

More silence. Riah calmed down enough to continue the conversation, if only to move away from the awkward teenage sexuality. "I don't hate humans. Your kind haven't done anything to mine." She didn't add that she fully expected humans to follow in the steps of every other species and adopt the same prejudices as everyone else. "I just don't like you and your mother."

"But… well, ok." Santi waited a few seconds to compose his thoughts. "But we haven't done anything to you." He sunk back into his seat, hands in his pockets.

"Not directly. But you are at my place all the time, you and your mother." She added a special tone to the last word, indicating just how much she bought that story. "And look around, this isn't exactly the place for sharing."

That seemed to get a rise out of Santi, who sat up straighter, "You don't think we realize that? We're not exactly waking up every day looking forward to being poorer than ghouls you know."

"Good," Riah snorted, the elevator finally stopping and its doors sliding open, the lights from the various shots filtering into the elevator and bathing them in a mix of color. "Then we can go and talk to Varlus, get you your own damn solar collector so you can stop using ours."

"Good," Santi shot back, though the effect was diminished by the fact that he had to follow her for directions. "I'd rather not have to be around you if you're that much of a bitch."


	10. Runners 3

Riah yelled in terror as two turians suddenly came flying out of Varlus' front door, one of them sporting a large bloody wound on his face. The two turians, which she identified as belonging to the 12th Floor Rippers gang by their face-markings, got to their feet and ran off, the injured one stumbling and bleeding along the floor as he did.

"SHOPLIFTERS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!"

Riah jumped at the powerful booming voice, her head swiveling to turn at a giant mechanical monstrosity that loomed in Varlus' doorway. Her entire body went on edge at the sight of it and she quickly darted away as she heard it plod back into the store. Her heart yammered in her chest as she noticed other people had been shocked by the machine's appearance and its violent removal of two would-be shoplifters. A few of them muttered amongst themselves and gossiped about it while somewhere down the street she noticed someone already spraying the ground with water and cleaning up the bloody trail the Ripper had left. She leaned against a wall as she tried to calm herself down, robots had always scared her, a deep racial fear that had been burned into her, and seeing a giant robot so suddenly and act so violent had really rattled her. She hung her head and pulled her hood and fists over her eyes as she regained control of her breathing.

"See Varlus' new toy?"

Riah turned to look at Old Vally, the very old run-down asari that ran the equally old and equally run-down clothing store that sat next to Varlu's. She laughed at Riah's nod, the huge gap in her teeth visible. Riah sometimes found the old asari humorous but right now couldn't quite deal with her, she turned and peered through one of the windows of Varlus' shop, the machine standing near Varlus' counter and swilling its head from side to side.

"That's first blood!" she laughed, "First time it's cut someone. Before that it's been scaring some of the local troublemakers straight, those two Rippers were the first idiots to actually try something."

Riah hummed, "Did you see what happened?"

"No," Old Vally responded, "But I _heard_ it. You ever seen a chainsaw? I think it has one of those, I heard it rev up; I think that's what gave that Ripper his little shave."

"Sure…" Riah remembered the Ripper she saw run away, her memory gave her the impression that he'd received more than a "little shave", one of his jaw flanges was probably completely removed. "Is it safe though? Has it attacked any normal shoppers?"

"No dearie," she asari assured her, "It's scared away a few customers from its look, but it hasn't hurt anyone that didn't deserve it. Unless it hates quarians, you should be fine."

Riah didn't tell her that some companies were known to program their security drones with species-profiling programs. In all likelihood the machine in there would automatically tag her as a shoplifter. If it were up to her she'd just turn around and head back home and message Varlus after a few days and ask how many innocent customers his robot mauled before stepping foot inside his store. But it wasn't up to her; her mother had sent her to pick up an expansion device for their refrigerator, something that needed to be done today if they wanted to preserve some of their foodstuffs. She sighed, felt her heart rate finally calm down and realized she had settled down after the initial fright. She looked into the store, saw Varlus waddling around and struggling to reach some of his own stock on the shelves and noticed a distinct lack of violence from his robotic servant. It was probably safe.

Riah ducked beneath the store's window when the machine inside turned to directly turn at her.

It'd taken her several minutes after that for Riah to muster up her courage to enter her favorite electronics, hardware and eight-hand junk store. She'd nearly jumped out of her suit when the machine turned to look at her and spoke in a deep rumble.

"SHOPLIFTERS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED."

Riah felt the shelves nearly break as she immediately backed into them, attempting to put as much distance between herself and the thing as possible and failing. It stood there, its glowing eyes trained on her as she imagined that her ancestors had met their ends just like she was about to, with her neck crushed beneath a machine heel. She silently muttered a plea to her ancestor, asking if they'd be so kind as to let her enjoy the afterlife even after abandoning the Migrant Fleet. She clenched her eyes shut and awaited what would most likely be a death that could be described as a terrible joke.

Did you hear the one about the quarian shoplifter who was killed by the robot security guard?

"Riah!" Varlus wheezed and causing her to jump slightly, "My most valued customer!" He wheezed out a short laugh, his laughter sounding like a dying engine, "Say hello to my new muscle, Fist! Fist," he said as he gently patted the machine on its club like arm, "say hello to Riah."

The machine stood silently.

"HELLO RIAH. SHOPLIFTERS WILL NOT BE TOELRATED."

Varlus wheezed in laughter.

"Enough of that! Riah, you're here for your computer chip right?" He turned and began to waddle back to his desk while Riah suffered a bout of panic, her fingers clutching the shelves behind her as her heart once again hammered away in her chest. She darted over behind Varlus, silently thanking the ancestors for making her suit take care of the result of all her bodily functions.

"Keelah! _What is that thing Varlus!_ " she hissed at an appropriate distance away from the menace, "Where did you get it? Is it safe?" A terrifying thought suddenly struck her. "It's not _alive_ is it?!"

"What?!" Varlus yelled, startling Riah even more. "No!" he sucked in more air than usual, "No it's not an..." he looked around his store before responding in a whisper, "It's not an AI. And keep your voice down, I don't need people overhearing a quarian rant about an AI on station. It'll be bad for business. The top floors would come down on me hard if they even suspected… No, it's not what you suspect it is. It's just a regular old security drone. I know this for sure."

"How?" Riah asked, trying to keep her eyes on both Varlus and the thing in the store.

"Because I put in the CPU myself, an old ERCS security drone like the ones the top floors use. It's nothing more than a simple, slightly modified security mech brain in there."

"Slightly modified?" Riah prodded.

Varlus pointed a finger at the machine, Riah followed his finger and saw the wicked looking chainsaw that ran along the left arm of the machine which occasionally revved up and sputtered out black smoke.

"ERCS mechs don't have those built-in as standard. Had to change the programming a bit to let it use it effectively. If you want to know more, you could ask Santi, he built it-"

"He what!" Riah snapped, "The boy built this _thing_? How?"

"Ask him. He came in here a few days after you brought him, asked me if he could buy old junk. Built it out of scraps. But enough of that, let's talk money. You're here for your graphics chip, the faster I get it in your hands the faster I get paid."

Riah hummed in agreement, "Yes, give me my baby! Oh, and I need an expansion device for a model 2002 Chitan Appliances refridgerator."

The small volus had already jumped off of his chair and waddled into his back room, though he still continued their conversation through shouts. "What's the matter, fridge out?"

"Yes Varlus," Riah yelled back, "The old garbage you call a working appliance you sold to my mother is already broken. Are you surprised your junk breaks down?"

"Ha." She heard him wheeze, "Can't work your quarian magic and patch it up together by yourselves?"

"Quarian salvage magic can't beat volus greed. I know all about planned obsolescence Varlus. Do you have the part or not?"

"You wound me," another wheeze accompanied by the sounds of equipment lockers opening. "Yes, I have one. Oh, it's on the top shelf. This'll take a while."

Riah snorted, the mental image of the short volus going off and finding a step ladder to reach the top shelf running through her mind. As she stood there alone with the machine her fear give way to curiosity and she took a moment to better examine the thing.

The machine was huge, taller than a krogan and looked as if it out massed one by a wide margin. A few pipes ran from the front of its chest all the way to its back, bursts of smoke blasting out as its chest rumbled and sputtered, and occasional blue flashes of misaligned kinetic barriers flaring up from somewhere inside the torso. It had oddly proportioned limbs; wiry upper arms and legs ending in oversized lower limbs, huge clawed hands that could probably crush a krogan's head in a single grip. Its head was a small tiny dome with flashlight eyes that stuck out at odd angles, a piece of hardware she recognized from old security drones that used to be used in asteroid prospecting. It was armored with pieces she recognized as doors from air-cars, old security guard armor, or salvaged airlock doors. She couldn't tell what Varlus was talking about; it seemed like what she'd expect someone would armor a salvaged security drone with. She had to admit that she was quite impressed considering the boy's complete lack of technical knowledge. How a moron who couldn't fix a simple omni-tool problem could build this terrifying machine was a secret she didn't care to figure out since that would require interaction with the two humans.

"By the way," the junkseller walked back into the storefront, his hands full with Riah's two purchases. "How about I take 100 credits off of your graphics chip if you do me a favor?"

* * *

She found the woman, Katja, at her house talking to her mother and watching some show programming. The woman had told her that her "son" was next door in their own house and given her the keys to enter. Riah thought it was mighty foolish of the woman to give her access to her living unit so easily, but didn't mention that for two simple reasons. Firstly was that she owed them access to her home given all the time she spent in Riah's, and secondly because of what she planned to do next.

She'd walked across the hall, used their key code and walked into their living unit for the first time. She immediately noticed the lack of possessions in the apartment. Only a couch, blankets and pillows strewn all over it, a shelf with a few items and a single drawing stood in the living room. Other than that, it looked as if the humans owned next to nothing; this didn't surprise Riah since she'd heard that humans were some of the poorest people in space, only out impoverished by some of the other species on their homeworld. She did notice all the painting along the walls, which looked like some sort of graffiti.

"Hello?"

Santi looked up from whatever he was doing on the ground, startled by her voice. Riah stood at the entrance to his room or workshop or shrine, she couldn't exactly figure out what it was that she was looking at. She saw a simple bed over in a corner with a heater hanging over it; she saw several parts from several different types of machines scattered around the floor and shelves and table; she saw several tools, welders, saws, micro-fabbers, computers, hammers, wrenches, spanners; she saw a metal skeleton suspended by heavy chains that hung from a wall; she saw several candles and the same smeared paint all over the walls that spelled out things in a language she couldn't read. Santi stood up from his spot, a tool falling out of his lap as he did so and clanking loudly on the floor.

"What are you doing here?"

Riah just glared at him, tossing the item Varlus had given to her to deliver in his direction. He barely managed to catch it, giving her an inquiring look in response.

"I was at Varlus'." She shrugged. "You built that thing he's got?"

She glanced over at the other drone, stuff dripping from its mouth.

"Yeah. What about it?" he responded. She had to hand it to the human, ever since that day on the elevator he was much less willing to put up with her. They both disliked each other and made that very clear whenever their respective guardians weren't watching.

"I was just wondering how you built it." She said, examining the thing more closely. "And how much it cost you to make one."

Santi shrugged. "Your mom lent me around 1,000," Riah's eyebrows shot up in surprise and wondered just how angry her ancestors were with her mother throwing out that type of money to strangers, "I bought lots of pieces from Varlus."

"Are they AIs?" Riah asked, somewhat sure of the answer. Varlus knew his computer programming, and if he said it was old ERCS tech then it was at best a limited form of VI. She just wanted to confirm with the boy.

"These aren't AIs," Santi responded immediately, going back to his work and turning away from her.

"Mmmh," Riah hummed, "That's what you say."

"It's the truth," he shot back, "Not what I say. I just took an old chip from some old security robots Varlus had laying around and tweaked it a bit. Now what are you doing here? I doubt you brought me this part out of the kindness of your heart, so what do you want?"

Riah smiled underneath her mask. "I want in. This business you've got going, building drones out of junk and selling them off for profit, I want in."

Santi gave her a long flat stare. "Why would I do that?"

"Have you forgotten the hospitality my mother has shown you and yours?" she asked.

"No, I haven't. And I've already repaid that hospitality in full. When Varlus bought my first golem he paid me enough that I was able to repay your mother for everything she's given us."

Riah honestly had no response to that, she genuinely didn't know the humans had done such a thing. Still, she pushed on, "Ok, fine. But I can help you. You paid 1,000 for junk from Varlus? I guarantee you could get you more parts for the same amount of money from quarians. Most of us are hoarders, keeping and reusing old pieces of junk on the hope that we'll fix them again. Like the Migrant Fleet. You offer them anything for their junk and they'll take that offer because its better than they'll get anywhere else. Do you follow?"

Santi at least looked like he was concidering her words.

"But you can't ask them can you?" she said as she walked over to him, "You're a human, an unknown. They don't trust you. But what if you had a quarian on the inside… perhaps the daughter of a well-known member of our little community working on your side? Well, you'd suddenly find your potential suppliers much more agreeable to working with you, wouldn't you?"

"Or, you can stay here, alone, trying to buy junk pieces from people who will always overcharge you and thereby cut into your profits and turn down my help. Or, we go into this as partners, and I help you tap into a huge source of resources, you get to make more of these "golems" of yours and make more money. And then we share… 30 70." She purposefully went with a low number, she knew she had no reason to be greedy; according to Santi the sale of the first robot was enough to pay back her mother for the initial 1k plus the costs of all the previous help they'd been given. Even 10% of that was more than her mother earned in a month."

Santi sat there with a contemplative look on his face.

"You sure?" he asked, as Riah nodded. "You could get me cheaper parts?"

"The cheapest. I guarantee us suit rats have got trash lying around that you'd love. Think of the money you'd make," she went on, "Think of all the things you could afford, of all the presents you could buy your mother." She went to the bait, hoping Santi was just the sort of loser who could be manipulated through his mother.

It seemed as if he was.

"Alright," he said hesitantly, "you'll set up a meeting with a quarian, someone you think will be willing to sell some scrap to us. If it goes well, then yeah, you're in. Deal?"

"Of course," Riah said, hopefully not sounding too eager. "I can get that ready in a few hours . You won't regret this."

"Fine," Santi said before turning and going back to work on his other drone.

Riah smiled and nearly skipped on the way back to her home, her mother and Katja asking her what got her in such a good mood.

Riah didn't respond as she jumped into her bed, opening her omni-tool and looking through her contact list. There were a few things on this miserable station that made her happy. One was money, and the other was taking advantage of fools.

And now she'd found a way to get both.


	11. Runners 4

Finding someone willing to sell was easy. Rela, one of her mother's oldest friends, often complained about the lack of space, about the accumulating junk, about the lack of buying offers, about the lack of money. Riah knew most quarians, most _stupid_ quarians, kept _every single piece_ of junk they ever got their hands on. It was a habit bred into their minds by the Migrant Fleet, a collection of junkyards strapped with engines floating out in space, to keep every piece of equipment in storage, waiting to be fixed and put back into use. A fine practice often taken to absurd extremes. This was one of those extremes. Riah looked over Rela's apartment, her eyes wandering all over the accumulated hardware her mother's friend had hoarded over the years. Much of it was useless, but here and there she spotted somethings that could fetch a loaded credit chit to the right buyers. Like the old Boro Fabrication units before her. An old C-9200 model. If Riah remembered correctly these were collector's items, sought after by fans of the famous volus engineer Han Kolklan who designed them before passing away. It was damaged and Rela had admitted it didn't work, but Riah guessed that this machine would easily sell for a couple thousand credits on a collector's market.

Santi was going to buy it for less than a thousand.

Technically, they were buying everything in here for around a thousand, which meant they were buying that valuable collector's item for around 24 credits.

Riah honestly didn't feel bad about this. While 24 credits for an old C-9200 was a complete steal, Rela could never realistically count on selling it for the hundred or so credits it was worth, much less the thousands of credits some collectors were willing to pay. It was the same story with the other junk here. Maybe someone on station would offer reasonable prices for an individual piece of garbage here, or maybe Rela would finally buy a replacement part, or buy a patent-breaker to micro-fab a replacement out of omni-gel. But all of that took time, hunting for deals and haggling. Riah and Santi were offering 1,000 credits here and now. Rela's apartment would look so much nicer without all this junk taking up most of the space.

"I'll take it." Rela declared.

 _Ah, there it is._ She thought. _A sale based on desperation._

Still, she didn't feel bad. Now they had material for the golem and Rela had money. Everyone wins.

 _We just win more,_ Riah thought as Santi handed over a credit chit.

"Riah," the woman spoke up as Santi started loading things up into his cart, "Could we talk in Khelish for a bit?"

Riah nodded, switching on her omni-tool's translator's privacy setting.

"What is it?" she asked, noticing Santi look over his shoulder at them.

"He's the human who made that robot for the volus fellow up on 8th?" she asked in a voice that sounded much more wonderful than the machine translated basic. "Are you sure he's not doing anything dangerous?"

"I'm making sure he isn't. Don't worry Rela, our Ancestor's shame won't be repeated by this ignorant child." Riah knew she had to really sell the safety of their operation. If a single quarian started a rumor that Santi was building AIs… well, Varlus was right to fear the boot the top floors would bring down on the two of them. "He is only using old security drone VI software and the only modifications he makes to their software falls under the Citadel's VI Modification Laws." Of course this is all a lie. Riah had no clue how Santi was actually programming the golems, this is just what she assumed he was doing.

Rela scoffed. "The Citadel's VI laws, what would they know?"

"Well," Riah began, "He claims to come from a long line of human drone makers." Another lie. "And humans have several millennia of experience on robot VIs." Santi had told her so, but she wasn't sure if she believed it. Didn't matter though, Rela had to believe it.

"Mmmh," her mother's friend murmured, "I suppose that will have to do." She hummed as she uploaded the credit chit's contents to her bank account. "What are those humans like? You've spent time with them; you must know the boy since you are business partners."

Riah fidgeted in her spot, finding the question odd and disliking the implication that she is close to the boy. "They are poor and have odd beliefs. Their homeworld is nothing but rubble. Like krogan."

Rela nodded. "Like us you mean."

* * *

"Alright, you're installing the ERCS into the head…" Riah narrated into her omni-tool, recording the entire procedure.

"Why are you recording me?" Santi shot a dirty look over his shoulder.

"Because I need to know our product," Riah shot back, "How can I convince my people that you _aren't_ building AIs if I can't answer basic questions about these things? Also… maybe I'll learn enough to help you build these things. And renegotiate my cut."

"Ha! Ghouls will sooner rebuild their nation." Santi laughed as he went back to his tinkering.

Riah scowled at the human, insulted that he'd claimed she couldn't understand his craft. "Just keep working," she said as she aimed her omni-tool at his work, recording everything she saw. They sat in something approaching non-awkward silence as Santi continued working, though as the minutes turned into hours Riah noticed that Santi's work was making less and less sense. It had started logical enough, working with the skeletal frame he had already started when she'd returned from Varlus' shop, but then he began adding parts in a haphazard manner, connecting parts to other parts for no logical reason.

"Why are you putting that part there?" she asked, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer.

"Because it's heavy." He answered flatly.

"That's a temperature controller for cars, what does it have to do with the arm assembly of a robot?"

"It's heavy," Santi said, "That means it'll make this guy punch harder."

 _That makes perfect sense._ Riah thought. "Are you telling me that you are just using these parts as filler?"

The boy shrugged, "I'm working with what I have. You could make a much higher quality golem with a body that makes physical sense, if I had an old security droid this thing could be of much higher quality." He made a face as he seemed to think of something. "Even a skeleton would be better than this. But!" he exclaimed, temporarily drawing Riah's attention away from his skeleton comment, "this'll do. And yes, I _am_ just using the parts as filler. Anything to make this heavy and durable before we wrap it up in armor casings. Wards and kinetic barriers will give it the extra protection it needs."

"I'll pretend I understood any of that and I'll pretend that you know what you're doing so that this doesn't turn out to be a huge waste of time." Riah sighed, leaning back in her chair before carefully taking out one of her favorite sweets and attaching it to her helmet's port, a small straw extending to her lips. She spent the next few minutes absentmindedly going through several sweets, occasionally moving her arm to adjust her omni-tool's camera of Santi and his work.

"Are you overweight for a quarian?"

"What?" Riah hissed.

Santi pointed to all her discarded sweets in her lap. "Your mom mentioned that you're watching your weight, and that those aren't doing you any favors. But…" Santi made a face as he put down the blowtorch he was working with. "I really hate to say this, but you look fine. You aren't any bigger than Katja, my mother. And she's a nice looking lady too."

Riah wasn't sure where he was trying to steer this conversation. "See I see your perversion extends to your "mother", tell me if all humans are incestuous perverts?"

"What?!" Santi yelled, his face contorting in anger, "It's not-"

"What's your point?" Riah cut him off, "Why do you care? I thought you didn't want to talk to me, you called me a bitch."

"I was just trying to make some conversation." Santi ground out, his grip tightening on the blowtorch. He turned away from her and continued working. Riah noticed he seemed to be taking out his anger on the piece of metal he was carving symbols into.

"So your idea of conversation is insulting a woman about her weight?" Riah jabbed back, happy that she was able to upset him so easily. "And whatever thoughts you think about your mother's figure, if she were a quarian she'd be a bit on the thicker side. Same as me. But that's not the same as being overweight."

They sat in silence again, the only sounds coming from the blowtorch in Santi's hand.

"You're right." The human said, drawing Riah's attention to him again. "Your mother is very slim and hippy."

Riah wasn't sure she appreciated his comments. "I'd prefer if you weren't looking at my mother like that," she began, "though yes, my mother is admired among our little quarian community on station."

Another long stretch of silence.

"Christ, I expected you to be a lot friendlier after I paid back your mother. I thought the only reason you were this much of a bitch to me and my mother was because we were living off of your generosity. But you still haven't changed. I have no clue how you're your mother's daughter. She's so nice and you… Christ, I've met nicer succubae."

"Yeah," Riah agreed, finding his anger enjoyable, "but at the moment you need me and unfortunately I need you. Why? Money. Lots of it."

"I have half a mind to give up on this deal of yours and try to strike it out on my own. Varlus didn't seem to be worried about any potential AI scare once I explained how it works to him. But our mothers are friends with each other, hell I'm friends with your mother too! We'd rather not lose that friendship." He finished with carving the symbols into the plates scattered around him, and pointed off to another tool beside Riah. "Hand me that."

"No please?" Riah asked, grabbing the tool in question and handing it to him.

"No." Santi shrugged as he began to attack the carved pieces of plating, tiles and other pieces to the body of the machine, forming a salvaged armor of sorts.

"Why my mother likes you so much is beyond me," Riah muttered. "A boy who doesn't even say please and thank you when a lady hands him something."

"When you stop being a bitch and turn into a lady I'll give niceties."

"Ah, I see you two are getting along wonderfully." Katja called from the door, neither of them having heard her come in. Riah straightened up as the woman walked in with that elegant walk of hers, she didn't care what the boy thought of her, but it was true that his so-called mother and her own were good friends. "Almost done with this one?"

"Yeah." Santi replied, stepping away from the golem and admiring his work. Riah thought it didn't look as impressive as the one Varlus had. In fact, it seemed quite flimsy. "It just needs some Anima and boom, we're ready to sell."

They both turned to Riah, who raised an eyebrow at them, "Alright!" she cheered, eager to finally be done for the day. Work was exhausting. "So let's do this thing and let's get to making money."

Santi shrugged, while Katja turned to talk to her. "Dear," she began with her infuriating nickname, "It's just that an Anima infusion is… well, it involves blood. Are you sure you want to stay around for this?"

Riah considered the woman's words. It was true that the so-called "blood magic" had startled her when she first saw it and she'd rather avoid any further experiences with the Gaian magic, but what if they were lying to her? She checked her recording on her omni-tool, 4 hours of recording. Riah admitted that most of it seemed useless since Santi's construction of the golem had seemed to be without any logic but she did want to keep it fully intact. Maybe she could sell the information one day? More importantly it was true that she needed to know her product to sell it properly, that wasn't a lie that she told Santi. No matter how much distaste she held for the two humans, she was taking this seriously and wanted to make money.

And Gaian magic was interesting.

She could admit to that. Getting past all the Gaian pseudo-religious nonsense that permeated all of the scant information found on them in the extra-net, it was clear that Gaian magic actually had some power behind it. It wasn't biotics, or so the speculation was starting to suggest.

And she didn't want to seem like a scared little girl running at the first sight of blood.

"I can handle a little bit of blood," Riah stated.

Katja looked to Santi, who shrugged and began to take off his shirt. Riah refrained some asking what he was doing and instead noted how Katja stood behind him and held on to him and lowered her head to whisper something into his ear. Sant grabbed one of Katja's hands and replied something in a hushed voice. The scene before her caused Riah to look away, her helmet heating up. She was sure that they were lying about their relationship unless human culture really was as perverted as she'd suggested to Santi.

"Alright," Santi's voice drew her eyes back to him, still held by Katja. "This _will_ get bloody, try not to freak out. In fact, go stand over there," he pointed off to the far end of the room," if you have to stay. Everyone ready?"

"Of course dear," Katja answered.

"Yes, let's get this over with," Riah said once she'd reached the spot where Santi had pointed to.

Then Santi's wrists exploded.

Riah jumped in terror, quarian curses leaving her tongue as a torrent of blood sprayed all over the prone golem, Santi's face contorting in pain as Katja held on to him, her own hands glowing where they touched Santi's skin. Riah asked what was going on several times, though when neither of them answered she gave up trying to find answers. She tried to calm down but the sight of so much blood shooting out of the boy's two wrists was making her head spin and stomach churn, she felt the sweets she had earlier rise up in her throat. She could _hear_ the blood spraying out of his body. She saw the holes in his hand widen and widen, slivers of skin being shredded off by the force of the torrent and hitting the golem. Just when Riah thought the boy would die from blood loss the stream of red liquid stopped abruptly. Before she could stop herself she ran over to the two humans, spurts of blood still falling from Santi's hands.

"Keelah! What was that? Is he alright?!" she asked, real terror in her voice, her eyes drawn to the wounds on Santi's arms, to the skin knitting itself back together.

"Shhhhh," Katja whispered, cradling a pale Santi in her arms. "Let me concentrate dear." Her hands glowed as she gently rocked Santi back and forth.

Riah jumped again, another curse from her mouth as the golem next to her growled. A low rumble coming from its chest as it stood up to its full height. Blood dripped from its body; small scraps of flesh fell off of its chassis. Riah looked down and saw a giant puddle of blood and gore on the ground; it was warm against her feet. She yelped, all pretense of looking brave before the humans failing. and jumped backwards, landing on the couch she had been sitting on and lifting her feet off of the ground.

When she looked back over to Santi she saw his eyes flutter open, the color returning to his body and his wounds nearly sealed up. "Oh, you got some on your feet," he whispered and gestured with his hands, all the blood that clung to Riah's feet flying off of her and splashing back into the pool of blood around Santi and Katja.

"Are you ok dear?" Katja asked, a second passing before Riah noticed she was talking to her.

"Me? What about him!?" she pointed where his wounds should be.

"He'll be fine," Katja said, playing with Santi's hair, "He's just exhausted, just needs to sleep for a bit. But are you fine? Do you need to lay down?"

"No, no, no." Riah shook her head. "No, I'm fine." She finished the recording program on her omni-tool, "I'm alright. Ha! Keelah, I'm _so_ alright. But if you don't mind," she gestured to the couch she was on. "All this hard work is exhausting, can I just nap here for a bit?" she asked.

Katja smiled warmly at her, "Go ahead dear."

Riah fainted.


	12. Runners 5

Riah hummed happily as her favorite musical album played over her internal helmet speakers, her favorite blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she lovingly gazed at her bank account statement. Whatever else could be said about Santi, her relationship with him had resulted in _amazing_ new heights of financial success. They'd made in a few sales what her mother would make in two years of work, and even after she'd shared her credits with her mother and paid off any of her remaining debt Riah still had a few thousand left for herself. Of that money Riah set aside most of those credits for tickets off of this station for her and her mother and a bit of cushion money to start a new life with.

After all that she still had a bit of spending money.

She idly thought about completely overhauling her omni-tool or even stocking up on the previous games she'd missed out on, but pushed those thoughts from her minds when she saw what time it was.

"I'm going out," she called to her mother as she got up and stretched, wiggling her toes as she did so.

"Mmh?" her mother seemed distracted, absentmindedly stirring her pot. "Be careful dear," she added. "Say hello to Santi for me."

"Sure," Riah responded, rolling her eyes at the affection her mother showed to the human. While she had begun to view him as tolerable, her mother showered much more affection on the two humans than was necessary. "Do you want me to pick up anything on the way back?" she asked before heading out the door.

She heard her mother's ladle continue clinking around the edges. "Get me some vanis root, Volera sells some, and it's on the way. Get around three bundles, Volera shouldn't charge you since I did a favor for her a few days ago."

"Vanis root, three bundles." Riah nodded, opening up her omni-tool and writing in a reminder for later. "Ok, I'm off to make us some money!"

Outside she saw Katja, who caught the tail end of her sentence and smiled at her. "Hello dearie," she said in her sweetly lyrical voice. "Santi already went up ahead, you could catch him on the way there."

 _As if I would._ Riah thought while smiling, no reason to alienate her eezo mine's mother and potentially cause troubles with him.

"Is your mother in?" The woman asked as she opened her front door and set some bags directly inside her living unit, Riah nodded. "Oh good… by the way is this vanis root?" she asked, opening one of the several bags she had been carrying and revealing the slightly blue herbs.

"Yeah, that's it." Riah answered before frowning. If Kantja already had some vanis root then why had her mother asked her to pick up some? She debated going back in and asking her mother, but that would mean spending more time near the human woman, so decided against it. Instead she simply left the door open, the human woman smiling, saying something and taking a few of her bags with her as she walked past Riah and greeted her mother, their conversation becoming muffled as the front door closed behind her.

As she walked through the hallway she saw Saestzea, the bitch, hanging out in front of her apartment. They both made eye contact, but the asari went back to playing with some children that ran around her. Riah glanced down at them as she passed by, stepping away from one of the dirty looking turian children when started running around her, yelping when one of them poked her rear with an old stick. She turned and slapped the stick away, glaring at the child. She had to pick up the pace as the damn kids kept following her and chanted "Big butt! Big butt!' More stick pokes.

She glared at them as the elevator doors closed, rescuing her from the little ankle biters and put a hand over her rear, checking to see that they hadn't damaged the suit. Luckily only her pride has been injured.

The rest of the elevator ride was pretty uneventful, a turian couple boarded the elevator for a few floors, and once a volus family waddled in. She spent most of the ride thinking about her shop.

She'd managed to convince Santi, Katja and her mother that it'd be a great idea to rent one of the empty stores up on the market floors. They'd been very wary about the entire idea at first, mostly concerned about the costs of running a business, but Riah had managed to run some numbers through a financial program that Varlus had suggested and convinced them that there was really no way they could lose money. And so a quick trip to the upper floors, quick paper work and now she was owner of half of Santi and Riah's Robots. Santi insisted that his name be first, since he argued that he was the most important part of their partnership, Riah didn't insult him by arguing otherwise and denying something they both knew to be true.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors jolted open, opening up to the market sections of the station. Riah saw various neon signs, some of them flickering on and off, crowds of people passing through the streets and old vents spewing steam from several of the restaurants around. And there in the distance, she saw the sign for her shop.

Riah grinned as she jump out of her seat and pushed her way through the group of people who were boarding the elevator.

 _Time to make money._

* * *

"Bitch."

"Bitch."

Riah frowned at the two drones Santi had guarding the store, they had the odd habit of referring to her as "bitch", which Santi claimed was just a side effect of their customized construction and couldn't be changed. Riah knew otherwise but said nothing.

She looked over at the front desk where Santi was talking to an elderly turian, probably Old Erasnirus, who had been in here for a few days as he investigated which of Santi's drones would be best for his price range and needs. He caught her gaze and waved her over.

"Old Erasnirus," Riah addressed their customer, "Are you asking about guns again?" He nodded. "We've told you several times now, guns aren't allowed by the top floors."

"Those vorcha thugs that robbed my store a few days ago had guns!" he replied, as angry as ever, his cane shaking in his hand.

"That's because they are criminals," Riah replied, not unsympathetically, "We are a respectable business, and we barely managed to convince the top floors to allow us to open up. They wouldn't give us permission to sell guns here," Santi nodded beside her, remembering one of the so-called "investigators" that the top floors had sent to check over their merchandise for illegal AI usage. "So we can't put guns on our drones without them coming after us for breaking the rules."

"Plus," Santi stepped in, "I've already mentioned that my golems aren't really built to handle guns. Even if I did give one a rifle or a pistol or something, _and I'm not saying I would_ , I can't guarantee they'll hit anything with it. Or that they won't accidentally hit an innocent person."

Old Erasnirus pointed at one of Santi's custom drones, the red one he had named Tila. "That ones' got a gun for a head!"

Riah glanced at the red machine, narrowing her eyes at it when it seemed to rev its internal engine in a low growl.

 _That's sounded like it was angry._

"The gun doesn't work," Santi explained as he walked over to Tila and patted her arm, "Lemme see." Again Riah glanced warily at the thing when it seemed to purr at his touch. "See? The investigator made sure of it, the metal ammo block is removed, along with all the firing components. I'm just using the gun because it has a bunch of sensors I used for Tila to see." He sighed as Old Erasnirus' shoulders slumped, "Sorry sir, but we just can't put guns on it."

"But look here," Riah stepped over to another one of the drones on display, a huge mean looking thing painted all black, with a human skull painted in white over its face. "This one's got a chainsaw that could cut through body armor, and it's got a jackhammer on the other arm that could crack a krogan's hide!"

"And we'll give you a discount." Santi added before Riah glared his way. Discounts were not allowed!

 _What the hell is he saying?_ Riah fumed before the old turian perked up. She bit her tongue, realizing that they could either let a drone go for less than their asking price or lose a potential sale. _Ancestors, this boy has no business sense at all._

The turian appreciatively looked over the drone, eyeing the mean looking weapons on each arm. "Crack open a krogan you say? Shame there aren't many of those criminal thugs on these floors… I'd pay to see that."

"Well, for the low, low price of 8,000 credits you just might!" Riah chirped happily.

"6,000." Santi added, hitting her in the shoulder behind the turian's back, angrily muttering at her and gesturing at the turian's cane. "That's the discount price." He winced as Riah returned his punch, making a crying gesture and then putting her hands over his breast in a crying gesture. He scowled and raised his fist to give her another punch before she raised her own, her luminescent eyes burning with defiance. They both flinched as the turian turned around and nodded.

"I'm sold," he said before opening his omni-tool and stepping over to Riah.

"Great," Riah forced her smile as she thought about that lost 2,000. "Now, I'll charge you while my partner activates the drone, it'll only take a few minutes."

"This'll make those vorcha think twice about robbing me." Old Erasnirus said happily, looking over at the drone as Santi began "waking" it.

"Mmhmmh," Riah agreed as she set up the transaction, "A few of our customers have already come in and told us about their drones stopping or preventing robberies or assaults in their stores. The Beturil sisters' drone broke some salarian's arm when the damn lizard tried to lift some lingerie from their store."

"Lingerie? Asari sisters?" Santi said as he inspected the now "live" drone, before shaking his head, "Uh, nevermind." He stepped back as the machine followed him off of its podium before opening his own omni-tool. "So, I'm sending you the instruction manual for your golem… there, uh, really shouldn't be any major problems that'll ever arise. When you take it to your shop just make sure to point out any friends or family members, people you aren't worried about stealing, or who take things from your shop and pay you later or something like that. Basically anyone you don't want getting attacked understand?"

"I understand kid," the old turian agreed, "What do I gotta do to maintain this thing? Does it need fuel or something?"

Riah tuned them out as the payment went through, a little squeal of happiness escaping her lips as those credits came rolling in. "Thank you for shopping with us," she began before walking away, leaving the human to talk to the old angry turian. As far as she was concerned the sale had already gone through and therefore, as the main salesgirl, didn't need to continue talking to him. Santi could buy the "old and crippled" sob story all he wanted; if rumors were true Old Erasnirus was a C-Sec reject that shot a few civilians during some incident on the Citadel and needed the cane when someone fought back in self-defense and shot off his kneecap.

So not only was he an insufferable old man, he was a dirty cop too.

 _And we let him go with a damn discount! A 25% one at that!_

"You," she pointed as Santi came back, the turian and his new drone having left the store, "Are you going to cut into our profits every single time someone gives you an old sob story? What next, going to give discounts to pretty girls is flash you a nice smile?"

"Fuck off Riah," Santi had significantly less patience with her as time went on, something she secretly preferred over his previously shy attitude, "I'll give discounts to whoever I want. What are you going to do about it?"

 _He's got me there._ She fumed, realizing once again that this entire partnership hinged on staying in his good graces. Nothing really stopped him from taking half of his money and leaving, starting a new business by himself except his relationship to her mother.

"You're costing us money." She said, turning away from him.

They stayed that way for around half an hour, their silent argument broken up only when a few people walked in and asked some questions, one of them promising to return tomorrow after he talked with his wife about buying one of their drones. After that, it was another long stretch of silence.

It was irritating, so Riah decided to speak up.

"So can all Gaians do that blood magic crap?"

Santi didn't answer, just tinkered away on some mechanical arm he had been working on all day.

"Huh?" she asked again.

"No," he answered gruffly, "Well, if the Gaian has blood they could use blood magic. Otherwise no."

"What?" Riah asked, "What in Rannoch's name does that even mean? If it the Gaian has blood," she repeated in a bad imitation of Santi. "Everything has blood in it."

She heard him sigh heavily, "Not everything on Gaia has blood. Faeries and other spirits don't have blood, natural golems don't have blood either… well, depending on the type. I'd guess flesh golems-"

Riah saw Santi look at her face, before shrugging.

"Yes. Gaians can. You just have to learn how to use it, like any other skills."

"Does it hurt?" she asked, remembering the sight of Santi's wrists exploding in violent gore.

"At first it did. When I was first learning I mean. That's the sign that you're learning it wrong, it's not _supposed_ to hurt. Actually, like all Anima use, it feels good."

Riah scoffed, looking at his arms as she did so. "Are you telling me something that makes you feel good leave you exhaust-Oh, nevermind. I should have known. Typical of men."

An old rag hit her face, oil smearing across her visor.

"From what I hear from Saestzea you wouldn't know." Santi shot back.

"Are you hanging around with that slut?" Riah asked, worried that he was. She was trouble, sexual escapades aside, and could lead Santi into some bad roads through the men and women she sometimes associated herself with. One of the Turians she hung out with, Knives, was very territorial about her and since Saestzea lived near the two of them it could spell trouble for them if he decided to flex his territorial brute muscle.

"I notice that's not a denial."

"You didn't deny it either," she responded. "Didn't your mother teach you not to associate with those types of girls?"

"I agree, girls like Saestzea are nothing but trouble."

They both jumped at the new voice in the room, turning to see a very well dressed attractive young asari standing in their store, flanked by two other asari that scanned the room.

"Hello miss." Santi said in that tone of his that told Riah he wasn't thinking with his head. Riah went back to looking at the three women before she noticed that the two other asari had their hands in their pocket. Guns. She reached behind the counter and grabbed Santi's hand, causing him to momentarily glance her way. Luckily he wasn't as dense as he looked and immediately noticed something was off about the girls. Riah retracted her hand from his when she felt a trickle of blood touch her hands, sparing a quick look down showed a thin stream of blood floating around his hand. She also noticed that Tila and Fila were focused on the two asari. She suddenly wished she had a gun of her own. Damn mother wouldn't let her buy one.

"I'd listen to Riah if I were you Santi." The pretty asari said, slowly walking over to their counter in the most seductive way possible. Riah could smell her perfume and see her perfectly applied makeup, and up close Riah noticed a tattoo along her neck that marked her as one of the Upper Families. "In fact, it is quite fortuitous that you chose to associate yourself with Miss nar Moreh instead of Miss Edoix. Your mutual asari neighbor's known associates include several members of the Sylgatus Revelers."

Santi glanced at Riah. "They're a pro-turian speciests."

"Miss nar Moreh, on the other hand…" the asari trailed off as she walked over near Santi, her slender fingers gliding across the counter before coming to rest over the machine parts that Santi had been working on. She smiled, "Well, Miss nar Moreh is selfish and greedy, she sees you as a resource to exploit. And that's good and safe for you," she added. "That means she'll try to keep you as safe as possible so she can get as much money as she can out of you."

"What do you want?" Riah asked much more forcefully than she should from someone she was terrified of.

The asari locked eyes with Santi, "There are many things that I want, Miss nar Moreh, and many things that I'll get to enjoy… not today however. Today is all business." She reached into her coat, exposing more of her breasts than needed as she pulled out an old fashioned business card and handed it to Santi. "I'm here on behalf of the Upper Families, _all_ of the Upper Families. I'm just here to deliver a message to you, Mister Santiago."

Riah saw Santi tense up beside her.

The asari held up a hand, "The Upper Families know who you are, or at least we know _enough._ But we've built up a reputation on this station; people come here when they want to disappear. When they want to hide from the outside world. We respect this. We wouldn't dream of ruining our hard earned reputation by selling you out. However, we do ask something of you in return. We want you to please refrain from selling your machines to certain unsavory elements aboard this station."

There was a silence after she spoke, Santi nodded and was about to open his mouth when Riah squeezed his hand again. "We weren't planning on selling anything to gangs, if that's what you mean. Or you."

"I'm both pleased and disappointed," she asari said. "Pleased that you won't sell to the undesirables aboard the station. The Upper Families have a hard enough time keeping them to manageable levels, and we've noticed sharp decreases in crime in shops that sport your mechanical sentinels. Disappointed that you've bought into the… misguided ideas Miss nar Moreh has about the Upper Families."

Riah's hands formed into fists, uncaring that she was hurting Santi in the process.

"Despite what you may have heard," she continued, "We are not monsters; we are not shadowy oppressors unsympathetic to those who live onboard our little home. We simply have a larger view; we see the bigger picture so that everyone on the lower floors doesn't have to." The asari looked Riah dead in the eyes as she spoke. "We worry so that they don't have to."

"I've heard similar stories," Santi surprised her with his harsh voice. "It didn't turn up good."

"As I said, I am disappointed. Hopefully you will grow to trust us in the future and we'll be able to negotiate a more intimate relationship." The asari replied smoothly before turning to leave. Riah felt her body relax before tensing up again as the asari abruptly turned around. "I forgot to mention… Miss nar Moreh. We are aware that you've been searching for a ticket away from our humble abode and would be sad to see you go. You are, after all, half the reason Mister Santiago and Miss Katja stay aboard the station. We'll remind you that many on the upper floors reached the heights they did due to… service to our community. You two, and your families, are always welcomed to join us. You have my card, Mister Santiago, you can call me if you have any problems that arise or if you simply want some company that truly appreciates you."

She turned away and walked out of the store, her hips swaying with each step. Her two asari bodyguards followed her out, their gazes locked with the large machines looming over the entrance. The only thing that they left behind was the smell of expensive perfume and danger.

Santi let out the breath he'd been holding, falling backwards into a nearby couch they'd dragged behind the counter, Riah followed him, collapsing in exhausting alongside him.

"Oh sweet Jesus," Santi muttered. "I don't think I've ever been as terrified without being threatened before."

Riah brought a hand up to her head as she tried to massage the headache away. "Keelah, believe me, we were threatened even if she didn't say it. I'm glad I'm wearing a portable restroom with me." She muttered.

Santi must have heard her, because he snorted and began laughing and making sounds of disgust. "Awww, you're right. You shit and piss in your clothing all day long don't you? Fuck." He stood up and made his way to the restroom.

Riah laughed at him.

Santi laughed through the closed door.

Riah waved her hand over the store, her omni-tool lighting up and shutting off the store's lights and switching the sign outside to read "Closed". Tila and Fila's eyes glowed in the darkness, the rumble of their engines calming her slightly.

"How fucked are we?" Santi said from behind the restroom door.

"Very." Riah said with no humor. "We're in deep now."

Riah shuddered, sinking into the couch and reaching for one of the blankets she'd brought from home, wrapping it around herself.

 _Fuck._


	13. Runners 6

"Ok, let's just think this through-" Riah began.

"No, there's nothing to think through!" Santi growled, "I saw we just close up shop _for good_ and leave. You yourself said it, they were threatening us!"

"They didn't!" Riah said, realizing she was contradicting her earlier statements. "Well, _they_ didn't threaten us themselves, that is to say, I doubt the Upper Families themselves will actually kill us or do anything to us…"

"Fuck that!" Santi yelled, "You and I both know they don't want us to get out of here!" He sighed and sat down, setting the store lights to dim, the holographic sign switching to CLOSED. "Look, we ran away from Gaia, I'm sure you knew that already," Riah nodded, "And these Upper Family goons _know_ we ran away…"

"Well _anyone_ would know that," Riah interrupted, "This system isn't one of the few that has opened up to Gaian immigration, the very fact that you two are out here implies criminal behavior. Maybe they don't even know who you are or who you are running from and…"

"What, they guessed?" Santi snapped, "They walked in here and gave us their speech on a bluff?"

"It's just an idea," Riah stressed, "Look, even if they did know who you are and who is looking for you, why would they turn you over? As it is, you two are the only humans in this part of space _and_ you are making cheap, easily built security mechs that can stand up to some small arms fire. The only one. And that means you are a valuable commodity, so until your government decides to open up the robot trade to Citadel space there's no reason at all why they'd let you go. Who are you even running from, the government?"

Santi ground his teeth, "No."

"Some gang?"

Santi said nothing.

"If it's no one with legal power, there's no guarantee the Upper Families will get anything valuable out of extraditing you," Riah began, hoping what she was saying sounded good enough to Santi. "And if it's some shady group, there's even less of a guarantee that they'll give the Upper Families something as equally valuable as you. Face it, you're _too_ valuable for them to trade away!"

"Oh please, just stop it already!" Santi roared, standing up and slamming his hands down on the counter. "You only want to stay here because they promised a spot on the upper floors if you cooperated with them!"

"I'm _terrified!_ " Riah yelled back, standing up from her seat, "What happens if you and your mother just up and leave huh?" she poked Santi in the chest before he slapped her hand away. "What'll the Upper Families do to me, who let you slip right out of their grasp? I'm just another suitrat quarian to them; any other quarian could replace me! No one will notice or care if they decide to take out their anger on me! And if that doesn't matter to you, what happens if you make yourself worthless?" she asked, Santi's eyes widening a fraction. "What happens if you stop being worth the secrecy to them? Do you think that card in your pocket will protect you then?"

Santi sighed, eying the drink that had spilled across the counter and moving his hand out of the way of it the growing puddle. "So what? We play their game?"

Riah glanced at the counter and pulled out a rag from one of her suit pockets. "Are we building golems for them?" she asked, handing him the item, "And aren't we helping out the people on the station? Varlus already came in here and thanked us, one of your drones stopped another shoplifter. Old Fali's drone stopped a burglar from stealing from her house. They haven't asked us to do anything… unsavory."

"Yet." Santi added.

Riah didn't have an answer to that.

The human boy sighed, and slumped in his chair, and gave Riah a look that made her ashamed of herself. "You know Riah, I _hate_ that you know how to think like them."

"I do too."

* * *

"Are you serious? You're actually ok with this?"

Riah was surprised at Santi's tone; she had never seen the boy talk to his mother that way.

"You know I'm not," Katja replied evenly, "But we have to be smart about this-"

"Not you too!" Santi cried out, flinching when Yili laid a hand on his own, a momentary look of anger on his face before he realized who had touched him.

"We have to be smart Santi," Katja replied, unaffected by his outburst. "We have been in similar situations before." Riah caught the woman's nearly unnoticeable shudder, "And we can do it again."

Riah saw the boy grind his teeth, "I don't want to go through that again."

"I know you don't," Katja said softly, "But the situation is different, this isn't the Arkhangelsk Svalka and these aren't the Poglotiteli. We can get through this."

Riah shifted uncomfortably and looked over at her mother, who gave a small cough in an awkward attempt to move the conversation away from their private history. "So what should they do?" her mother asked, "Maybe Santi is right, they should just close up the store and leave?" Riah jealously noted how her mother kept her hand on Santi's. "I don't want our kids to be in danger."

"No, Riah is right," Katja responded, "If Riah and Santi stop selling their golems they lose their value to the Upper Families and hence we lose their protection…" Riah yawned, despite the circumstances she couldn't help but start feeling the effects of sleep. "Listen, why don't we talk about this tomorrow morning, it's late and we're in no condition to make big decisions if we're all falling asleep."

Riah looked to Santi and then to her mother, who nodded and began to stand up, "Riah, get some spare blankets."

Riah raised an eyebrow, though she quickly caught on to her mother's plan. "Santi and Katja are staying?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Seemed like her mother was worried about the two humans and thought there'd be safety in numbers. Not an unreasonable suggestion, especially since she knew Santi would bring the spare golem he had in his workshop for extra security. Katja, the human woman, seemed to have caught on just as quickly and didn't put up any token struggle, instead the two mothers simply nodded to each other.

"Santi," Katja began, "let's go and get some things from our place too, I'll help you activate that golem you've been working on, we could use it tonight." She led him out of their living unit and across the hall, their conversation in an untranslated language muted by their front door closing behind them.

"I'm surprised," Riah turned at her mother's voice, "That you aren't kicking up a fuss tonight."

"No, not tonight," Riah responded simply. Frankly, she was glad her mother hadn't asked that's she go and help Santi ready the golem, she wasn't sure if she could deal with that tonight. "They'll be gone for a bit," she explained, "The golems take a while to startup," she hadn't yet told her mother about all the blood, "So… they'll be gone for a bit."

There was a moment of silence as Riah was regarded by her mother.

"Come," her mother ordered as she headed into their room; Riah followed as her mother bent over and fiddled with the electronic lock on her safe; the one she rarely opened, the one that had old mementos of her husband. Riah had, on accident, wandered into the bedroom and caught sight of her mother crying over photos, or smiling over the old presents her father had given her mother when they were young. But she'd never see everything that was in the safe. Like the old, cracked visor, or the beautifully patterned shawl, or an old piece of jewelry that still shone in the dim light.

Or the guns.

"Mother, are those…?" she asked, shocked that her mother had kept several weapons in their home without her knowledge.

"An Elkoss Combine A-II rifle, two ERCS Firethorn SMGs and..." she trailed off as she picked up an old pistol. "This one was your father's." The weapons lit up to life in her hands, extending out of their compact carrying modes into their combat forms. Riah watched as her mother lovingly touched the old pistol before reaching further into the safe and retrieving several magnetic clamps which she fixed to her left. She stood up, holstered the gun and made a few quick draws before Riah's eyes, which bulged in surprise at her mother's movements. "I'm very out of practice."

"I didn't know you were into guns," Riah asked, never once thinking she'd have to utter that sentence. All her life she had imagined her mother as the very vision of femininity, weak, fragile, averse to violence. But here she was, with a small armory hidden beneath sentimental love gifts.

"I'm not." Her mother laughed warmly, "But your father was. Here," she handed Riah one of the submachine guns. "You should be able to handle the SMG since the rifle has too much kick for you."

Riah accepted the weapon, careful to keep her fingers as far away from the trigger as she possibly could, the weight of the weapon shifting in her hand as it extended out. She turned it over in her hands, getting herself accustomed to it. "This one has my name on it." She said.

"No," her mother said as she faced away from her, retrieving the other weapons from the safe and laying them out in the bed, inspecting them one at a time for faulty components. "Riah is also the name of my best friend when I was your age; she met your father while out on her Pilgrimage. The two of them wiped out a merc base out in the Systems; hauled back several tons of weapons, one small corvette and two dropships. They both got accepted into the Fleet Marines for that. They got married shortly afterwards, I'd never seen Riah so happy." She laughed at some old memory.

"Why did you never tell me that I was named after someone?" Riah asked numbly, looking back down at the weapon in her hands.

"You never asked Riah." Her mother replied back, "You never asked who I was back on the Fleet, or what I did or anything. You were always too busy resenting me for taking you away from our people."

Riah recoiled, stung by her mother's words. It was true. "Well… why did you leave?"

"I never told you because I didn't want to validate that resentment."

"Oh."

"Can you use a gun?" her mother continued as she handed her one of the magnetic holsters. "Let's see how you look with it on, you have your coat with you? Wear it to hide the gun, we don't want one of the enforces catching you with an unregistered gun."

Riah felt awkward despite her mother's attempts to steer the conversation away from her father and past, but followed her mother's instructions and checked herself in a nearby mirror. The SMG hidden beneath its heavy layers. "This should be fine," Riah said before practicing her quickest draw possible, though she wasn't anywhere as quick as her mother was.

"Here," her mother said as she handed her the assault rifle, "We'll keep this one in the living room, somewhere within reach. When Santi and Katja come back, we'll ask them how they are with weapons and we can give them the spare SMG."

Riah briefly wondered about that. A few weeks ago a video had been released about the so-called Lluvia Incident; some turian mercenary band from an infamous slaver ring had landed on one of the Gaian-Citadel joint worlds and gone on a rampage before being killed by some old Golden War vets alongside some asari locals. Caused a big stink; made some of the Gaians second guess allowing aliens on their world if it also means pirates are going to shoot up their cities, made the Citadel species second guess living near nigh-unkillable elderly that could blow up krogan with their magic. Captured video had sprung up on the extranet, uncensored. She also remembered Santi's blood magic. She assumed Katja had her own tricks. "Yeah, good idea," she agreed with her mother. Magic or no, it's probably always a good idea to have a backup plan. Those old folks on Lluvia were famous vets, so it was unlikely every Gaian could turn krogan into smears.

She also doubted the whole "unkillable" angle that some people had put forth.

The door chimed and they heard Katja calling through the door. Soon her mother had allowed them in, a pale Santi shuffling in before his mother who carried a bag full of personal belongings with them. Then the new golem, which hunched over to fit through the door, followed them in. Motor humming and chainsaw occasionally revving up. Soon the sounds of Katja and Yili talking and cooking in the kitchen filled the small room, and Riah could momentarily forget that their two little families were being watched by powerful people.

"What's this one called?" Riah asked Santi as he flopped down on the couch. She thought back on the store golems and their similar names. "Kila? Sila?"

"Mila," Santi said weakly. "Triplets."

"I should have known," Riah scoffed, "More of these human perversions. Just remember to control yourself tonight."

"I don't think I can," Santi joked, "Knowing your mother is nearby. I have a thing for hot moms." He pointed at a nearby container, "Could you hand me that? I really need some water."

Riah did so.

"I'm a little disappointed," Santi said after taking several gulps of water, "that you didn't berate me for that last comment. Honestly, I'd prefer if you did. It would make this entire situation feel a little further away than it actually is."

"You pervert," Riah said simply, "Stay away from my mother. Keep your filthy eyes to yourself." She sighed, sitting down across from Santi and taking off her coat, she noticed Santi's eyes land on her newly acquired weapon as she did so. "Can't do it." She growled, "Can't pretend things are fine, and I'm not in the mood to make little jokes."

Santi struggled to sit up, "Well… at least you tried. And you are right, I don't feel like joking either, I'd have never joked like that with you before. Guess I'm trying to be _too_ relaxed right now."

"And it's not working." Riah stated.

"And it's not working." Santi agreed.

* * *

They sat in silence, Santi mostly out of exhaustion and Riah out of anxiety. Dinner went by quietly too, Katja and Yili making small talk in a vain effort to keep some sense of normalcy going, the golem still looming in the living room by the front door. It soon grew late and Riah's mother convinced Santi and Katja that it'd be much better if Santi slept in her bed with Riah.

"The couch is no place for someone in your condition dear," she had said sweetly, "He'll sleep much better on a bed."

Katja stood by silently while Riah protested. Unfortunately, she realized what game the two adults were playing. Her mother and Katja were the only two who had any experience with guns and fighting. Santi would be a liability in the living room if, Ancestors forbid, the Upper Families sent someone to pay them a visit in the night. In the end Katja agreed, and the two adults decided that they'd take shifts to keep watch at night.

So Riah found herself laying uncomfortably close to Santi on a bed. Occasionally their bodies would touch and she'd recoil away from him, a difficult task on the small bed. They laid that way for at least an hour, uncomfortable, restless, and worried about their mothers in the living room and about the turn their lives had so abruptly taken. Riah noticed that Santi's breathing had started becoming steadier as time went over, and turned over to look at him. He seemed peaceful, though she understood that he was physically exhausted. Still, she was jealous of his ability to rest. His eyes fluttered open and he caught her staring at him.

"It's pretty nice being in your mother's bed," he whispered.

"You're disgusting," Riah replied honestly, "Stop thinking about my mother, a scrawny little _human boy_ shouldn't be thinking about her. Stick to your own species."

Santi lay still for a long time.

"That's the venom I wanted." He whispered before falling asleep.

Riah decided that she didn't like Santi much.

She slowly got off of her side of the bed and went to the bedroom door. The human woman's head snapped up at the movement of the door sliding open. Riah looked past her, at her mother sleeping on the couch, rifle within easy reach, then back at Katja, SMG in hand.

"Can't go to sleep dearie?" she asked, Riah noticed she didn't look tired at all. "What's wrong?" Riah pointed out her appearance. "Oh," Katja smiled. "I've done this before, so I don't' really need to sleep." Riah asked if she planned to let her mother sleep the entire night. "Of course… now get to sleep yourself. Your mother would be upset if she found out you were still awake."

Riah nodded.

"Lock the door too."

Riah did. Then she pulled up a chair by the bed, wrapped herself up in blankets, drew her SMG, and sat and waited. She wondered if, perhaps, they were making a big deal out of nothing. If the Upper Families only wanted them to freak out, wanted to be unbalanced by a single visit, wanted them to be in a state of mind where they'd be more likely to break and accept anything the Upper Families offered. For certain they've ruined her night. She doubted her mother and Santi were sleeping peacefully and she doubted Katja's idea of a fun night included all-night stakeouts.

 _Tonight is fine,_ Riah thought, _but how long can we keep this up?_

So Riah sat there, throughout the night, trying to think of a way to get out of this mess.


	14. Runners 7

"Stop glaring at them," Riah growled, taking Santi's face in her hands and turning him to face her, the human responding by slapping her hands away.

"Do they _have_ to stay out there all the time?," he retorted angrily, pointing at a couple of Upper Family enforcers that were watching them from a few stores over before Riah grabbed his hand and pointed it away. "I don't like it; they're watching us like they own us."

"I don't like it either," she hissed, "but aggravating them won't do us any favors!" Luckily their door chimed as a customer walked in, sparing the two of them from another one of their arguments and forcing Santi to put on his friendliest face as he walked away. Riah sighed; she could just feel the headache coming along. She looked up two see the two asari Upper Family whores smirking at their anger before she threw up two middle fingers, a hand gesture Santi had taught her. Unfortunately the asari didn't understand the insult, but it was the thought that counted.

She turned away from the window and saw Old Erasnirus waddling in on his old cane, frowning at the sight of the old racist cop.

"Old Erasnirus," Santi said, barely stumbling over the alien name after so long on station, "What can we do for you? Is your golem fine?"

"Oh yes!" the old turian grinned, his old decayed teeth bothering Riah, "It's working just fine, broke a humpback's jaw when he tried robbing me! I left the vermin stomper at home to take care of my son's little cadets while he and his woman are attending a social function…" the old turian let out a wheezing laugh, Santi giving Riah a sidelong glance. "Say, my son is interested in buying one of your robots for himself and so is my brother."

"Oh?" Riah cheered up, the prospect of two sales being brought up. "I didn't know you had a brother here."

"I don't, not here. He lives on Tarnas, one of the border worlds as a prospector. These golems of yours could help keep the humpbacks pirates and their vermin off of him and his boys while they work the mines. I'd appreciate it if you could give them the same discount you gave me."

"Sorry," Riah immediate began, cutting off Santi before he could fall for the turian's spiel. "We can't do that."

Old Erasnirus scowled at her, probably as displeased at having to talk to a suitrat. "Why not?" he asked, "There's a freighter convoy coming in in a few weeks, we cans hip it out then."

"The Upper Families won't allow it." Riah said, crossing her arms. "They don't let us sell anywhere off-station. Just like they wouldn't let us sell guns."

The retired C-sec cop pointed his cane at Riah, who stepped back from the offending stick, "You sell gun parts don't you? Can't you just ship all the parts and my brother can assemble it on his end. These robots are all made out of junk parts, the Upper Families won't notice."

"It wouldn't work," Riah said, before sighing and motioning to Santi. "Tell him it wouldn't work."

Like always, the boy was reluctant to say no. Riah motivated him by sending another glare and readying a fist. As always, Santi flinched.

"No, it wouldn't work," the boy began, "Golems require human Anima to animate, and unless some other humans ran off to Tarnas or wherever your brother is _and_ they also happened to know golemancy… well, if that were the case, you wouldn't need me to send them a disassembled golem. Sorry Old Erasnirus, but there's no way for me to sell a golem anywhere not inside this wonderful space station."

Riah nodded along with him, agreeing with Santi if only to disagree with the old turian. She immediately went into her sales pitch, trying to upsell him on one of their most expensive models. Normally Santi would step in and try to put a stop to her so-called "monumental greed", but he seemed to be lost in thought. Riah smiled, credits flashing before her eyes. She haggled with the old C-sec bastard for about half an hour, selling their priciest model by playing to his interests; namely by pointing out how easily this golem could crush a krogan's skull with a single hand, and chop a mob of vorcha in half with a swing of its sword. It was easy to get him to buy after that. After all, Riah didn't really disagree with Old Erasnirus; krogans really were dirty humpbacks living in dirt hovels, vorcha really were disease-ridden vermin too poor and stupid to control their numbers and asari were the galactic dumpsters for all sexual disease. She _almost_ forgot why she hated the old bastard so much, she'd even learned a few novel insults from him in that short half-hour. But then remembered why he'd been let go from C-Sec. She may hate everyone else, but she hated murderers more. Still, she felt better once the sale was over and his credits were transferred into her bank account.

She vaguely wondered what sort of problems they'd get into once people realized their cheapest golems were being sold on a 500% markup.

But that was a problem for future Riah to handle. Future, rich Riah. And being rich solved almost all problems.

She wasn't worried.

What she was worried about was Santi; he'd taken to sulking over by the window, scowling at the two asari who were still keeping them under surveillance. She swiped a button on her omni-tool and temporarily closed the shop, the lights dimming automatically.

"I'm surprised you didn't stop me," she said as she walked over to their backroom and retrieved a few of her favorite sweets, her voice still carrying over to the front of the shop. "I just made us 9,000 credits in profit. Sold Pricey over to the old turian." She said with a little song, She waited a moment before frowning, upset at his lack of response. "Hey human, pay attention to me."

"Uh?" Santi said, looking over to her and noticing the food in her hands. "Breaking your diet again? Anyway, shut up for a moment. I'm thinking."

"Fuck you," Riah snapped back, "I earned these today. And you, thinking? Don't overexert yourself." She began drinking her sweets and waited for Santi's retort. It never came. Riah realized that Santi wasn't as much fun when he was ignoring her. "Ok," she began, "What are you thinking about? It's obviously important since you've been thinking about it for about an hour now. Are you dreaming up a more expensive golem?" she asked hopefully.

"What? No. Fuck the golems, I think I've figured out a way to get us out of here." He turned to her, a triumphant grin on his face. "See, all we have to do is kill ourselves..."

"Yes, suicide is one way to escape from your troubles, but I'm too young and beautiful to die. Your plan is trash."

"No, listen!' Santi began as he led Riah to their couch, "Humans don't die when we're killed, all that happens is that our soul is kicked out of our bodies, then we can either reconstruct a new body or we can jump back into our bodies and fix them. Basically, we become ghosts. Quarians believe in ghosts right?" He didn't wait for Riah to answer, "Well, even if you don't it doesn't matter. The point is that I know how to get us off of this station. We deal with any loose ends here, finish any orders, close up shop, buy any supplies that we'll need to make our getaway and hold us over until we reach some new place. You and your mother then buy a ticket on one of the freighters that are coming by soon okay? You've said that the Upper Families are mainly interested in me right? They won't mind if they see you trying to leave right? So we use that to our advantage. You and your mom get aboard a ship while me and my mom stay here, then right before the ships leave me and my mom kill ourselves, turn into ghosts, and just go straight to the ship to meet you and your mom. Boom! We all escape and these Upper Families wouldn't be able to stop us at all!"

"Except that you'll be dead!" Riah growled, "Look Santi, nothing you've shown me makes me believe that there is an afterlife-"

"I'm not saying that there is an afterlife for _quarians_ ," Santi interrupted, "or even that there's an afterlife for humans. I'm just saying that there are human ghosts and that we can come back from the dead."

Riah just stared at him.

"Look, let's get home first and then I'll prove it to you."

* * *

Riah found out that her mother had stepped out to visit some friends, which only meant that Santi had gotten it into his fool head to kill himself to prove his idiot plan. He barged into his living unit, Katja cooking some human food over in the kitchen.

"Mom, me and Riah need privacy so don't bother us." Santi announced as he dragged Riah along to his workshop.

"Have fun you two."

"Katja, your son is about to do something stupid!" Riah called out, struggling against Santi's grip.

"Part of growing up dear."

"Fuck." Riah cursed, the workshop door closing behind her.

"Look, listen," Santi began as he began searching through his tools or something. "Here's how I'll prove it. I'm going to slit my throat and kill myself," he barreled on at her horrified look, putting a hand over her mask's speakers to prevent her interruptions, "then you are going to go into your room and do something that I wouldn't know about. Make up a long number, or an odd sentence, or hide something somewhere, I don't know. Just make sure it's something that I have no clue about. As a ghost, I'll follow you into the room and see or hear what you are doing. Then come back here, I'll resurrect myself and tell you what you did. That'll prove I'm right!"

"You are fucking cra-no!" Riah lunged forward as Santi retrieved a screwdriver from one of his tool boxes and drove it into his neck, her hands slapped away by a dome of blood that suddenly sprung up around the suicidal teen. Riah gasped in terror before pounding on the red liquid shield, frantic to get to Santi. She tried to force herself through the shield, bashing against it with her shoulder as she readied a first aid app on her omni-tool. "Santi you damn pervert trash, you stop this right now!" she yelled, terrified as she saw more and more blood gushing out of Santi's neck as he continued to stab himself over and over.

"Stick," he stabbed himself, "to," another stab, his voice a gurgle through the blood choking his throat, "the plan!' he then fell limp to the floor, the dome of blood splashing down around the two of them, covering both of them in blood.

"Keelah! Keelah!'

"Caution!" Riah jumped at her omni-tool's voice, "Pocket Medic v.3.1 is detecting a –HUMAN- in critical condition. Apply pressure to-" Riah didn't bother for instructions, putting her hands up to Santi's neck, blood gushing from between her fingers. She could feel his neck torn and shredded beneath her hands. "Pocket Medic v.3.1 does not contain HUMAN anatomy. Contact medical authorities."

Riah felt Santi go deathly still beneath her hands, and panicked.

"Katja! Katja help!" she screamed out, the short second that it took for the human woman to barge through the door feeling like an eternity for her.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Katja asked as she burst into the room, a pistol in her hand. "I-oh, what's going on here?"

"Santi! He-he-he," Riah doubled over, the contents of her stomach coming up as she dry heaved inside of her visor. "Keelah…" she groaned, Katja putting her arms around her and pulling her to her feet.

"Dear, Riah dear," she wiped some of the blood off of Riah's visor, "I'll take care of Santi, you go and clean yourself up ok? Ok? I can handle this, it'll be alright. Ok?"

Riah nodded dumbly, stood up and walked out of the room where he only friend had just killed himself, blood staining her suit. She walked back to her own living unit in a daze, and headed for her restroom. The blood clung to her suit, and she noted tiny pieces of flesh stuck between her fingers. She raised her hand and plucked out a piece of neck from between her fingers and watched it wash down the drain. Then she threw up.

She was in the process of cleaning out her mask, a tough process that involved flooding her helmet with cleaning fluid and releasing a cleaning valve near her mouth, when the entire room shook, the mirror rattling against the wall.

"Stick to the plan."

Riah yelled and ran screaming into her bedroom, throwing her covers over herself and hiding under them, shivering as _something_ followed her. She could feel it! Someone was there with her! She peeked out from under the covers as everything in her room began to rattle and shake, something tugging at her bedsheets and touching her feet. Her heart yammered in her chest as she felt something looming over her, an oppressive weight on top of the covers that seemed to crush her in. Then it left. Riah shivered in fear underneath her covers for what felt like an eternity, crying. She wished her mother was here.

Her skeleton nearly jumped out of her skin and through her suit when her omni-tool rang, a call from Katja. In Riah's frantic state of mind, she released its' clamps from around her wrist and flung it over her dresser. It kept ringing for several seconds.

"Riah dear," it was Katja's voice that suddenly washed over the room, "Santi's better now he says-what?-here, take it then."

Riah looked over at her dresser, the soft glow of the omn-tool coming out from behind it, her heart in her throat.

"You crybaby," it was Santi! His voice was weak and hoarse, but she knew that voice anywhere! "You threw up, then cried in your bathroom… still hiding under your covers?" She heard him laugh, a choking wheezing laugh that ended in a few grunts of pain before Katja's voice came over the call again.

"Dear, why don't you come over and we can explain?"

"Ok." Riah called out as she scrambled out from under her covers and picked up her omni-tool, relief flooding her voice. "I'll be right there," she replied, already running towards Santi and Katja's living unit. She passed her mother, who was startled to see her dart out of their home, past Katja who was walking out of the workshop with a smile on her face and finally reached Santi, sitting on a couch, pale as can be.

Then she punched him as hard as she could.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" she yelled as he slumped over, "Fuck you for scaring me like that you trash! Bosh'tet! Don't you _dare_ do that to me again, or I'll kill you again when you come back!"

Santi rubbed his jaw and spit out a tooth, groaning all the while. "I needed to convince you!" he said before she readied another punch, "Fine! Fine! I'll stop. Fuck, did you have to hit me so hard?"

"Idiot! Bosh'tet!" Riah growled before storming out of the workshop. In the living room she could see her mother peeking her head in and Katja at the kitchen.

"What happened?" her mother asked, Katja waving her in. "Where you picking on Santi again Riah?"

Riah bunched up her hands into fists, her knuckles pulsing in pain after having collided with Santi's jaw. Her whole body tensed up, she wanted to scream. The entire situation with the Upper Families and now this stunt with Santi killing himself and resurrecting himself was too much on her today. Suddenly she relaxed, noticing the grocery bags her mother carried.

"Mom, do you have any of my favorite sweets in there?" she asked innocently.

"Yes,"' her mother was thrown off by the question. "I keep buying them for you, even though I know I shouldn't."

"Good," Riah said, taking the bags from her mother and walking over to her door. "Ask Katja to fill you in. I'm eating my sweets and then going to bed."

"Sorry for scaring you."

She turned to see Santi come out of his workshop, his lip bleeding.

Riah scowled and turned her nose up at him, turning away and heading to her room.

"Bosh'tet trash," she muttered.


	15. Runners 8

"So what's it like?" Riah asked Katja, who was laying down on the couch across from her and running a glowing hand across the scar on her neck, the remnant of her resurrection demonstration to Yili.

"How does what feel like?" the woman responded as she withdrew her hand, the scar completely gone. "Being a ghost you mean? Well, it's sort of like… being asleep and being awake at the same time"

"Huh?" Riah responded smartly, "Well, that didn't really answer my question."

"Sorry dear, it's just something that's hard to put into words for someone who is so… limited."

Riah frowned at the woman's words, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing offensive dear," the woman replied, projecting her omni-tool's browser into the living room's display emitter and flipping through various videos on an extranet site, "You all don't have Anima, so there's really no way to describe it, it'd be like describing music to a deaf person, colors to a blind man, emotions to a rock. Honesty to an Illuminati spook."

"Mmhhh," Riah hummed, thinking of more questions to ask the woman. "So, all Gaians can do this?"

"No, well… heh, this looks fun," the woman said, finally deciding on that idiotic turian obstacle course show. "There are several other Gaian species that can become ghosts like we can, but only humans can resurrect themselves like we do. After the Golden War when we all got these "special privileges" it's become second nature for humans to die, go ghost, and resurrect ourselves. Hell, they teach elementary kids all about safe resurrection techniques." Riah shuddered at the mental image of several little children cutting their throats and overcoming their fear of ghosts through firsthand experience. "But yeah, we can go ghost whenever we want to."

"Why don't you just do it all the time?" Riah asked, "Wouldn't that be the safest way to hide? No one else in the galaxy would be able to find you."

Katja let out a dry laugh, "It's not that easy. It has risks, too much time as a ghost and we risk turning into one of the nasty ones. Specters, poltergeists, all those other ones." She laughed at something on screen before turning back to Riah. "Bad ghosts. Crazy ones. Staying in the spectral realm for too long can cause people to go insane, latch on to their emotional extremes, lose their sense of self. Usually, you find an Anima well to reconstruct your body and avoid that problem or find your body again and jump back into it after patching it up. That also avoids the problem. Problem is, I haven't seen an Anima well anywhere outside of Gaia, natural or artificial."

Riah understood much of that even if some of the details seemed to elude her. Immediately though, her mind caught on to a comment the woman had made. "Wait, you need these Anima things to not go crazy? You said none of these Anima things exist around here, so doesn't that _completely_ destroy our escape plan? It's no use escaping if you and Santi will just go crazy while we're on the run."

"Awww, is that some concern I hear? Getting a soft spot for my Santi?"

"Oh fuck off-"

Riah briefly saw her mother's open palm before her visor's mouth piece slammed into her lips, stinging terribly. She muffled her cry of pain under her mother's glare.

"Young lady if I tell you once I've told you a thousand times, watch your tongue around our friends! Excuse her Katja, I don't know where I went wrong with her. Here, something to drink."

Katja smiled as she sat up and took the offered drink before waving off Yili's apology. "Don't worry about it Yili. I have a teenager of my own remember? I know they can be a bit much sometimes."

Riah rolled her eyes, cursing the insufferable friendship the two women shared.

"Yes, but your boy isn't rude." Yili countered as she sat down and attached her own drink to her helmet.

"No, but I've caught Santi ghosting and sneaking into strip bars."

"Oh. Well, he is a healthy boy…" Yili replied.

Riah buried her head in her blanket, muffling her scream. _This is who we are trusting our lives to?_

"Riah does bring up a good point," her mother began, "this escape is worthless if you two will go insane in the process."

"No, we'll only go crazy if we can't find an Anima well _or_ if we can't return to our bodies. So, what we are going to have to do, well… what you two are going to have to do is carry a part of ou-"

Riah put up a hand, interrupting the older woman. "Wait," she demanded, "You're going to tell us to pack your corpses in our luggage aren't you?"

Yili gasped.

"No," Katja responded, "Just pieces of us."

* * *

Everyone ate breakfast in silence, Yili and Katja sitting at the table and discussing which belongings to pack and which to leave behind. Luckily neither family had much in the way of possessions, what little they did have is easily replaceable. They'd be traveling light. Riah and Santi were enjoying breakfast while playing a video game together on the couch.

"It's unfair that you get to mutilate me but I can't mutilate you."

Riah didn't respond immediately, instead she focused on destroying Santi's aircar and taking first place. Fourth win in a row. "You're not good at games are you?"

Santi gave a frustrated sigh, before taking a bite of his breakfast. "All the language is in quarian, I can't read most of what's going on!" He grumbled something between more mouthfuls of his breakfast, Riah recoiling in disgust as he did so.

"Chew your food you damn animal. Listen, so are we really going to have to carry your heads around? I'm not really sure I'm looking forward to any of that."

"Doesn't have to be our heads, it's just that brains are harder to recreate for us. But really it could be any part of us. The bigger the better. And it'll just be for a while, long enough for you and your beautiful mom," Santi didn't mind the punch to his arm, "to get aboard a freighter. Then you just find a private place for us to rebuild ourselves and bam! We just ride that freighter to… wherever it's going and…" Santi shrugged, "I dunno, I haven't about what we'll do after that. Start somewhere else maybe." He paused for a second, "Or go back to Gaia."

"I thought you couldn't go back?" Riah said.

Santi glanced backwards at his mother, causing Riah to turn and look. Katja was at the stove, probably cooking more human food while her mother was using her omni-tool. "Well, it's not like… when we left it wasn't because there wasn't anywhere we could run to. We just left because the opportunity suddenly presented itself. After that it was a good few months of evading the bastards that came after us." He glanced back to the kitchen before adding in a whisper. "More than me, I think they want Katja back. She was one of their favorites." Given the look of disgust on his face Riah could take a guess at what he meant. "And with all the shit that is going on here I'm thinking it might just be safer on Gaia, or on any of our colonies. We could turn to the cops and ask them for help, maybe give them some info on the Svalka and help them put the bastards away for good."

"I guess I'd like to visit the Flotilla," Riah answered as she set up another race, "But that might still be a while off. I think the Flotilla accepts quarians born on the outside as long as they still come back with a gift, but I _think_ my mother was kicked out or has been gone so long that they wouldn't accept her back. Or maybe they would if she also brought back another gift to get in their good graces. But that's still far off in the future. Press start you idiot."

Santi suppressed a growl, joining the game and almost immediately falling behind Riah and all the NPC racers. They played in silence for a while, the only sounds around them being those of the game and their mothers' conversation in the kitchen area.

"I've been thinking."

"What a surprise."

"Shut up for a second." Santi shot back, "How do you think we should off ourselves? We need to make it look believable so that the Upper Families don't think it's suspicious."

"Why wouldn't they believe it?" Riah asked, "You guys _are_ going to kill yourselves."

Santi paused their game, leaning in as Riah leaned away from him. "But what I mean is if we all book a passage off of the station before we're dead it'll look suspicious to the Upper Families. They might hold you up and make us all miss our flight."

Riah pushed him away, unpausing their game and taking the lead. "Sure. But wouldn't that mean that we'd have to wait until the last minute to book our passage?"

"Probably. But I'm sure you could convince the captain to let us onboard if you wave around enough money. Now we just need to figure out how to kill ourselves in a way that looks accidental."

Riah grinned.

"I've been thinking about that, and I have just the _perfect way._ "

* * *

The four of them sat around the kitchen table as Riah searched the extranet for some old news story she said would help them in their plan. At one point her mother gave her a stern glare while Riah seemed to shrink in fear or shame. Santi stifled a laugh as he guessed at what had happened, presumably Yili saw something in Riah's search history that she didn't approve of. A few awkward moments later and Riah beamed in happiness.

"Here, read thi-I mean look at this," she said as she projected the extranet site onto the living room's display. Despite not being able to read quarian, Santi could piece together the story from the various pictures. Something about some sort of device that blew up a house. "See, gangs have been refining their own rocket propellants for a long time now. They use it for homemade weapons like rocket launchers, explosives, they strap small rockets to their aircars for extra speed in gang races or getaway vehicles."

"Alright," Santi said, remembering some of the ingenious weaponry that people made back home during the Golden War. "But that helps us how?"

Yili answered before her daughter could. "Many of the necessary components can be found in commercially available machinery like generators, batteries, capacitors, cooling systems, heavy machinery and the like. Back on the Flotilla this was done all the time since we couldn't always afford actual propellants. It is incredibly dangerous however; lots of things can go wrong."

"Right, like these turians here," Riah pointed to the screen, "Blew up their house when they made a mistake. Santi we own a lot of pieces of equipment that could be broken down and used in this homebrew propellant business…"

"… so it wouldn't be out of the question for an accident to occur." Santi muttered. "Alright, it could work. So we just make up some bullshit excuse as to why I was trying to refine my own rocket fuel-"

"Like for a new golem weapon," Riah offered.

"-right like that and then," he gestured to the screen, "I blow myself up."

"Us up," Katja interjected, "I have to be there too. I have visited the shop a few times, so it wouldn't be out of the question for me to be there. Riah will step out for whatever reason and that's when we have our little accident."

Riah nodded, "And then I'm so devastated that my friend died that I just have to buy a ticket away from this station."

Santi looked at Riah, before turning to look at Yili and Katja. "Well, it's all believable up to there."

* * *

It was decided that they'd enact the plan by the end of the week, giving everyone enough time to prepare. Unfortunately Yili never actually made propellant while on the Flotilla, so she couldn't exactly offer the most help to that particular part of their plan. Instead Riah searched through the depths of the extranet for information about these so-called "rocket scientists" including some of the basic setups people "fueled" with. Much of the chemistry of the entire refining process was beyond her and Santi, but that was mostly irrelevant. They didn't have to know how to refine fuel properly; they had to know how to refine fuel improperly. "Really," Riah told Santi during one of their research sessions, "we just need to know enough to blow up our store." Most of the things they either already owned in their junk pile or could easily buy from some of the nearby hardware stores and the process of setting up the machinery wasn't difficult especially since Santi could just order one of his golems to do any heavy lifting that was beyond them.

Riah found that the hardest part was acting natural. Katja had to remind her and her mother to keep their normal expenses, continue making arrangements for outings with friends. Pretend as if they weren't going to completely disappear in a few weeks.

In spite of all of that, Riah found herself being happier than she'd been in a long time. Threats to her life or no, she was finally going to leave this station and maybe, if she was lucky, go back to her people.

"Alright," Santi said as they finished setting up their equipment, a generator humming with power in a corner of the room,. "Alright!" he clapped his hands together and pointed to Mila, his "youngest" robot and designated lab assistant, who lumbered over and stood beside him.

Riah got comfortable behind the makeshift barrier they had built for her, peering through the reinforced glass they had used to give her a window into Santi's section of the lab. "Are you ready?" she asked, "You better not fuck up and blow yourself up _before_ we're ready!"

Santi shrugged and threw her a nasty look, "Nag nag nag! Just let me concentrate, I'm the one holding the explosives! Fuck."

Riah huffed, sitting back in her chair and finding the sites she would use to walk Santi through the process. "Why don't we start small, that way if you do blow something up it'll be a small controlled explosion. Give us an idea of how dangerous this is."

"Fine."

"Ok, you'll need a screw driver," Santi held up their electric version, "some pliers," he held up those too, "gloves so you don't get skin burns," Riah already knew he was wearing those, "OK, you'll also-"

"We have all the tools Riah. No need to check off every single one."

"Tools check. Safety," she kicked the barrier in front of her, flinching in pain as it proved as sturdy as Santi claimed it was. She looked over at Santi, whose safety didn't really matter. "Check. Ok, now… let's start making some bootleg rocket fuel."

The next few days went about as well as they could; the two of them found that they were enjoying themselves a bit more than they should. Aside from the fear that they would cause a pre-mature explosion and ruin their plan, or kill Riah, it was admittedly fun to play with explosives and Santi did legitimately think he could build some sort of weapon for his golems.

"Rocket fists!" he said during one of their lunch breaks. "It'll make my golems twice as powerful, twice as deadly!"

Their experiments did attract some attention.

A few days away from their planned "Bomb Day" something went wrong and one of their containers suddenly exploded, sending a piece of shrapnel through Santi's arm. Not enough to be serious, but enough to spook the two asari "body guards" the upper Families had posted outside. They tried to get Santi to go to visit an Upper Family doctor, but Santi refused. When the asari asked the two of them what had caused the explosion and learned about the proposed rocket weaponry they suggested sending someone experienced in that field of work to assist Santi in his work, to avoid any future problems. Riah refused, telling Santi that they'd probably try to steal his golemnetry secrets. They both started cussing out the asari, telling them to get out of their store. Santi even threatened to call their boss on them.

Then Bomb Day Came.

* * *

"What?"

Riah realized she was staring at Santi and Katja.

"It's just-I guess it just hit me, you guys are going to blow yourselves up in a few minutes."

"So?"

Riah really didn't have an answer to that. Instead she just shrugged. Maybe it wasn't so odd. She'd already seen Santi kill himself a few times. Katja slit her neck when she demonstrated her abilities to her mother. This had been the plan for days. "It's just odd." She replied dumbly, feeling Katja put a hand on her shoulder.

"Do you have some baggies dear?"

"Yeah," Riah answered as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a few pouches. "How much of you do I need?"

"Well, if you can try to get some of our brain matter."

"Brain matter takes a while to rebuild, especially without an Anima well." Santi offered.

"Yes, even just a small handful will do. Ideally the more that is left over means less work for us when we do plan on coming back but even small amounts work. So if you can dear, try to get back in here and find an arm or a leg. Brains or hearts would be best."

"Right," Riah said.

"Well, just don't mess this up." Santi said, pointing a wrench at her that she immediately slapped away. "We're counting on you to get pieces of us _and_ get a way aboard the freighter. We'll still be around of course, but we won't be able to affect much of the real world while we're dead." He crossed his arms and frowned, "And for our own sakes we have to stay near our corpses or risk going mad. So we are going to be stuck haunting your house for a while."

Riah scowled, glancing at Katja. "You'll keep him from spying on me or my mom won't you?"

"Of course dear," the woman smiled.

"Get going." Santi said, gesturing for her to get out of the room.

"Just hold on," Riah stopped as she looked around the room. This would be the last time she'd see the store like this. Normal. She felt a small pang of something in her chest.

 _Odd._

She looked over at Santi and Katja one last time. "Well, this is it then. Just give me a minute or so to get out to a safe distance and… this is it huh? Good luck."

Katja smiled, before pulling Riah into a hug. "Good luck dear."

Riah glanced at Santi, who just stared blandly before giving her a small smile.

Riah smiled, before putting on her game face. "Alright, I'll get you your damn food!' she began in a shout, walking out of Santi's lab and heading to the store proper and slamming the door behind her, "Fucking humans…."

"GREETINGS RIAH-"

"Yeah, yeah. Shoplifters will not be tolerated, I know."

She put up the closed sign out front, hopefully keeping any poor bastard from trying to enter the place just as Santi planned to blow up several containers of low-grade rocket fuel.

"Hey," one of the two asari called out to her. "Where are you going?"

"What's it matter to you?" Riah replied, still headed towards the fast food place further up the hall.

"It matters to the Upper Families," the blue bitch replied smugly, "Upstairs wants to know where both of you are at all times. So I'll ask again, where are you going?"

Riah didn't have to pretend to hate these people. "Well if you must know, _mother_ ," Riah spat out, "your little robot factory is hungry and busy with some tinkering. Since he's so busy I get the privilege of playing the inter who picks up the fast food, so if you don-"

Suddenly Riah was picking herself up off of the floor, a deafening ringing in her ears as she struggled to stand up. When she fell down flat on her face for the second time she gave up on standing, her hands immediately and instinctively went to her visor while another reached into one of her pouches. Planned or not, the blast took her off guard and really shock her up. She groaned in pain and felt blood steam down her face, shards of glass embedded in her forehead.

 _Shit, shit!_

Riah fumbled around in her pockets, finally retrieving her emergency kit and applying a disinfectant directly to her face, a sealant across her visor and injected herself with an emergency cocktail of immune-boosters and antibiotics. _The plan is shit if I die due to an infection! Ok, calm down, calm down, calm down. Riah, you're fine, you're fine. I sealed the visor as quick as I could, I've had suit tears that lasted longer. I'll be fine. Keelah!_

The store was an inferno, flames and smoke spewing out through the shattered windows.

Riah stood up and steeled herself through the pain. Santi and Katja had done their part.

It was up to her now.


	16. Runners 9

Except for the fact that the bedroom was empty, Riah knew someone else was with her. She tried to sit up, the effort immediately knocking her on her back, a cough filled with phlegm racking her body before subsiding into a struggling wheeze. Pain shot up throughout her face, which she realized was going through the process of swelling as her body reacted negatively with the filthy bacteria of the station. She laid back, staring up at her familiar ceiling, the hum of her mother's old air purifier struggling to work in the corner of the room.

She stared dumbly up at that ceiling, wondering how she'd made it back home after the explosion.

Through her ill mind she vaguely recalls stumbling through the streets, her cracked visor's makeshift repairs barely keeping out the contaminants of the world outside her suit. She painfully remembers falling headfirst into the ground and someone coming to her aid and calling out to her, but doesn't remember how she ended up home.

"Mom?" she calls out, her throat burning and her voice low and weak.

The room shakes, causing her to startle before she remembers the life she'd walked into. Golems, magic, ghosts, Santi. In her fever she thinks she can see him out of the corner of her eyes, hazy and clear and distant and near. Whenever she turns to look at him he seems to disappear from her view. The room shakes again as she struggles to turn to see him, the concerned sound the rattling of her mirror makes giving her the impression that Santi is telling her to lay down and rest.

"Is that you, dead boy?" she calls out.

The room shakes in response.

"I'll take that as a yes." She keeps seeing him out of the corner of her eye, though he looks different. Terrifying. "We need to find a way to talk to each other," she whispers. "I need some sleep."

The room shakes in response and Riah doesn't mind that she'll have the human beside her this time.

* * *

"Ugh."

Riah opens her eyes, the sound of someone rummaging around waking her up.

"Shhhh, shhhh," she hears a voice she instantly recognizes as her mother's and feels her gentle hands atop her head, caressing her. "You need to rest."

Riah reached up and held her mother's hand, "What about-"

"Shhh, calm down, everything is alright." The room shook in agreement. "Just rest."

"-out of my house!'

Riah opened her eyes, seeing several asari standing over her, her mother struggling against one of them as they shouted over each other. Had her face not felt like it was splitting open Riah would have smirked when she saw her mother punch the asari, laying her flat on her blue ass. The room shook, though the asari didn't seem to notice.

"-lies have questions!" the asari who was fighting against her mother shouted, while an older asari stared at her face and shined a light into her eyes.

"Jinme, enough!" she yelled before standing up, looking down at Riah. The quarian girl couldn't make out the look on the older asari's face, but it looked like it was something approaching pity. "We are leaving. Miss nar Moreh, if you nee-"

"Out." Her mother growled.

She was sitting up before she was even conscious of her actions, dizziness catching up to her as she sat upright, causing her to sway on her bed. The room shook and she felt alone and scared. Then her mother came into the room.

"Lay back down sweetie, you're still sick," she began as she tried to put Riah back onto the bed.

"Mom, how long… what?" Riah began, finding her mouth dry. Her mother noticed her distress and pressed a canister of water against her mask's seals, Riah greedily drinking as much as she could.

"It's been four days," Yili answered, "since Santi and Katja…" she knelt down and touched her visor to Riah's, "I knew you would be in danger, but we planned for that..." she gave out a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging notably.

"Oh, but I'm fine now," she answered weakly, not at all feeling fine as she did so. She raised a fist, "Go me." She went back to her water, her throat feeling much better as she did. "Was… there anything left?" she asked, hoping her mother would understand.

"Yes," Yili answered while glancing over at two bags, one labeled Santi and the other Katja. Riah could tell there were filled with something heavy and wet, bloody stains smattered around the zipper. "That's all that's left." Riah and her mother shared a look.

Their friends were shredded pieces of meat inside carrying bags. All according to plan.

"Ok," Riah said as she slowly moved her legs to the side of the bed, her mother standing up and offering both her hands. Riah gladly took them and together they pulled her up to her unsteady feet. "Ok," she whispered, "Ok, I'm fine," she began, dropping her mother's hands and taking a single unaided step, her legs feeble after days of illness. "I feel terrible."

"You were lucky," Yili whispered, "Saestzea found you in the street, after the blast. She brought you back here."

"Sae?" Riah choked out, amazed that the slut would ever lift a finger to do something other than fondle a man's genitals. "She brought me back here? You're joking."

Her mother sighed, she looked incredibly tired. "No, I'm not. She even came by the next day and asked how you were doing." The next moment Riah found herself in her mother's arms, warm and safe. "You… well, I suppose it doesn't matter now. Do you want something to eat dear? I'll make you your favorite dish." She didn't wait for a response before putting her visor to Riah's cheek and looking her dead in the eye. "I'm glad you're feeling better, mommy loves you."

"Right," Riah said dumbly, her mind still slightly disoriented. Then she smiled at her mother, "I love you too mom."

As her mother left the room Riah walked over to her mirror, looking at herself for the first time in days. The first thing that she noticed was her lack of clothing, her suit looking bare without her usual bright red hood, suit-shirt and suit-leggings. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling naked without the coverings. Riah scoffed at the idea, she wasn't actually naked with her enviro-suit on… but the feeling was still there. Unable to fight the odd shame, she briefly looked over her bare enviro-suit for any damage. She stretched and turned in front of her mirror and happily noted that, aside from a few extra scratches here and there, her suit seemed to have held together just fine. She walked over to her small dresser and retrieved a spare set of clothes, dressing herself in her favorite red and white pattern. She smoothed the new clothing out, noting it was a little smaller in size than her usual outfit, but not uncomfortably so.

"You can't talk to me, can you?" she asked, knowing Santi was with her in the room. In response her mirror shook slightly, "That's odd… I could swear I heard you talk as a ghost once…" she trailed off, unsure if she was just remembering a fever dream. "We really need some way to communicate." She cursed herself for not having hashed out even a basic communication system.

She was startled, or she would have been if she hadn't met Santi and Katja, when her mirror began to fog up and she felt a heavy cold presence fill the room. She wasn't scared; this was probably another one of Santi's magical abilities. If anything, this was the only thing she'd seen so far that caught her attention in a good way. Forming ice was a rather peculiar and fun magic trick.

No bloody magic and suicide pacts.

She watched in anticipation as the frost spread over the bottom right corner of her mirror before stopping,

HI

"Hmmm," Riah hummed, "That's a start. But I don't think it would be very practical to carry around a mirror that you'll constantly be freezing just to write me little messages." She sighed, propping up her head with a hand on her chin, absentmindedly tracing her own patterns around Santi's message. "You could fog up my visor… but then I couldn't see. It's also not very inconspicuous if my visor starts freezing and words just happen to form."

She watched as another section of her mirror began to frost. She hummed and rested her head along her arm, just the effort of the last few minutes leaving her tired. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she noticed the frost spread much more slowly than before. "Is it difficult to do that?" she asked, "The ice thing I mean." He never seemed to have problems shaking the room or her mirror. She tried to remember the particulars of a conversation she had with Katja about ghosts… she noticed Santi writing something in the frost.

YES

"Is it because of the ice, does it take more magic to freeze things than shake them?" she asked, before an idea sprung to mind. "Wait, wait. I've got an idea. Shake the mirror if it's easier for you to shake things instead of freezing them."

The mirror shook.

"Ok," she stood up, excitement coursing through her body. "Can you shake me?" she asked as she held her hand out, smiling as it suddenly moved to the side as if it had been slapped away. "So… it is easier to move things…" she hummed, "That makes sense." At least it made sense to her, it would probably be easier for her to move a mirror than freeze it, that was probably true for Santi too, magic or not. She snapped her fingers, another idea springing to mind. "Can you hold my hand?" she asked, an invisible force griping her hand in response.

"I got it!" she cheered, "I know how we'll do this! I'll ask yes or no questions, for yes you'll put your hand on my left shoulder," she pointed to her shoulder, "And for no, you'll put your hand on my right shoulder. If it's neither, put your hands on both shoulder got it?" A hand on her left shoulder.

"Great," she cheered. "We can do this."

A hand on her left shoulder.

"Now, let's get something to eat."

* * *

"Uuuugh…" Riah groaned, "Eating was a terrible idea." A hand on her left shoulder. "Fuck off Santi," she snapped as the mirror in the bathroom shook, which she realized was Santi's way of expressing laughter. _How wonderful,_ she thought, _he's dead and he's still making fun of me._ Her mother had warned her to slow down, that eating so fast and in her condition would not be agreeable to her body. It also didn't help her stomach when she stepped on what she thinks was part of Katja's brains. "I shouldn't have come back here so soon," Riah lamented, her mouth filled with the disgusting taste of half-digested food and bile. Flushing her visor again and spewing the contents down the sink, she once again flooded her visor with a disinfectant and deodorizing liquid, the smell and taste of vomit finally leaving her enclosed mask.

"Are you ok dear?" she heard her mother ask through the half-destroyed door, the sink making a terrible rattling noise before one of the pipes burst open, showering Riah's feet with filthy water. She stepped back in anger, kicking the ruptured pipe and hurting her foot in the process before her mother pulled her out of the small ruined room and into the much larger ruined room. The blast had completely leveled the backroom, only the reinforced back wall surviving and even that with huge gashes in the wall, one of the various skyways visible just beyond it, a terrible draft coming in punctured by the occasional sound of a speeding car passing by. The front of the store had been completely burst open, damaging some most of the stores on the other side of the hall. Most of their golems were smashed or fused together by the chemical fires that sprung up after the blast, Santi's two "triplet" golems still standing in their guard positions. One of them, she couldn't tell which one, had noticed their approach and taken a few steps in their direction before falling apart into scrap and slag. Riah went over and patting the thing's head in a gesture of affection before moving on to its' "sisters", because she was positive Santi would have done that.

Truth be told, she felt a small pang of pain at the sight of the three triplet robots still standing guard, and wondered if they had somehow been able to sense their creator even in death.

"At least no one else was hurt," Riah heard her mother mutter, "A few people were nearby and got hit by the blast and the store across the way had their windows smashed. The fright took years off of poor Pulue's life and salarians don't live long." She lifted up her foot and cleaned a smear off of the sole of her foot, Riah wondered why she seemed so nonplussed at all the scraps of human gore that were littered here and there. "Except for these two."

Riah nodded as she shifted through the rest of the rubble, picking up pieces of debris here and there that caught her eye. An old car engine that was going to be used as the main core of a golem before it was warped and melted by the blast. Something that looked like the main processor for an omni-tool, one of Santi's wrenches, a golem that would have sold for 10,000 credits; Riah wondered if they couldn't have waited until that golem had been sold; having that extra 10k could have helped their upcoming escape off of this junk heap.

She dropped a piece of debris that she was looking over and made her way to her mother, who was sitting down on an overturned golem, her hands playing with an old wrench.

"Mom," she whispered, aware of the two asari guards that were still posted across the way, one of which she recognized while the other seemed a new hire. She had asked Katja and Santi about the privacy wards that they had placed all around the store. Through a long series of yes no questions, she'd learned that the wards should still work to a certain extent. "Let's go, we've got things to talk about."

"Is there anything here you need?" her mother asked.

"No," Riah answered, feeling Santi's hand on her right shoulder and she assumed Katja did the same to her mother, "There's nothing here that is worth anything anymore. Let's just go," she said before taking out one of her water canisters, "I think I need more rest," she added.

Her mother offered her shoulder and while Riah would normally not have been caught dead limping along the halls with her mother, she realized she was in no real position to act tough in front of the other teens. It also helped their act when the two asari guards saw the two of them leave the ruins of their once prosperous business.

The walk back home was long, Riah working up a sweat as she worked up a slight wheeze, her mother chiding her for wanting to get out and walk around so soon after waking up. On the way back they passed by a few of her mother's friends, who waved or greeted them or offered their condolences. Quite a few people gave them some nice words about the Katja and Santi, even Varlus waddled out of his shop and offered a very brief Volus prayer for the two humans.

Saestzea surprised her too. She was talking to some turian while a couple of kids played around them. Yili waved at the girl, who stopped her conversation and stepped forward and offered a small smile.

"I'm sorry about your friend." She offered, the turian beside her looking between the two of them as the kids crowded around them. Saestzea gestured to Riah, "This is my friend RIah and her mother. She's the quarian that ran that robot shop-"

"Oh, with the human!" the turian interjected before a somber look crossed his face. "Oh. I'm sorry, I heard what happened. That kid was alright, he sold a robot to my uncle. Big Mean Metal fought off some 120th Floor boys who tried mugging him on the way to work." Riah thought back on all the turians they'd sold to and vaguely remembered a turian with an amputated leg. She yelped when one of the kids scampered over to her and gave her a hug, the little turian girl only reaching up to her knees and muttering something in her broken childish basic.

"Will there be a funeral or…" Saestzea began, "Or whatever humans do?"

Riah searched the asari teen's face, trying to see what her angle was. As she was trying to puzzle her behavior out, her mother answered.

"No," she began as she patted the child that clung onto Riah, "I once spoke to Katja about their beliefs and she said they were something called New Catholics. Their funerals require the body to be buried…"

The turian boy scowled, "And that can't happen now because of the incinerator policy. Damn Uppers! Ma couldn't get a proper burial because of that."

Yili and Riah both nodded, though Riah had to admit that for once the Upper Families weren't to blame. The incinerators were necessary, most space stations can't afford space for something as frivolous as a cemetery. Lots of different cultures had to forgo traditional funerals when living spaceside.

"Also," Yili continued. "Even if we did have somewhere to bury them, there aren't any Gaian priests for light years…"

"I think they'd understand," Saestzea said.

Riah felt Santi put a hand on her left shoulder, taking this as her cue to join the conversation. "I'm sure they would. Thanks," she added, "for…" she didn't really know what she was thanking her for, so she just let her words trail off.

"Sure. I hope you feel better."

Her mother took the lull in the conversation as her chance to excuse the two of them, correctly noting that her daughter was at a loss for words. Saestzea and the turian boy said their goodbyes, the asari teen asking them to inform her if they decide to hold some sort of memorial service, the little kids they were looking after also sending a chorus of byes.

Once inside their apartment, Yili set Riah down on the couch, drawing a blanket over her and asking if she wanted a hot drink. Riah turned on the main holo-display and began looking for something to watch.

"Why weren't you ever friends with Saestzea?" she heard her mother ask her from the kitchen area.

"What?" Riah responded, her mind catching up to the question. She would have answered normally, telling her mother that she didn't want to hang around with a disease ridden slut… but just couldn't find the energy to insult the woman. "I don't know," she answered, unsure of herself.

Her mother huffed as she walked over to her, a canister of warm tiliv broth in her hands. "Don't think I haven't heard the insults you've traded with each other out in the hall _and_ don't think I'm deaf to the rumors about her… free spirited… attitude about sex." Riah cringed, the automatic response all children have whenever their parents talk about sex. "But she's a nice girl if you don't greet her with an insult."

Riah mulled over her mother's words, "But she's got no respect for herself."

"Oh?" her mother countered, sitting across from her and attaching her own canister to her helmet, "How so?"

"How could she?" Riah asked, "Asari don't know the first thing about sexual restraint."

"On the Flotilla, there are records. We uploaded all sorts of information into our computers when we left Rannoch. Art, music, movies." Riah nodded, not sure where her mother was going with this. "We made sure we took everything that would preserve who we are. We also brought academic research papers, census data, government reports, other statistics. I know, because I worked as a curator on the Flotilla for a while. Do you know how many sexual partners quarians had in 2483, a few years before the Morning War? Six to eight."

Riah was shocked. No self-respecting quarian would sleep around like that. It was absurd. "Nonsense," she replied. "There's no way-"

"There's no way we'd do that now, because of the suits." Her mother cut her off in a gentle tone. "The average is now one to two. We're sex starved. All of us are." Riah squirmed in her seat, hoping that Katja and Santi had decided to get their ghost selves out of the room. "That's why so many quarians look down on the asari… among other reasons. We think we're somehow better than them. But it's mostly the suits and the high risk of death that comes with every sexual encounter for us."

Riah felt pretty uncomfortable with the conversation, "Ok… but what does this have to do with Saestzea or asari? Six to eight sexual partners is probably low for asari, certainly if the rumors are true-"

" _If_ the rumors are true."

"-and there'd be no reason why they wouldn't," Riah continued, "Sae has had more than eight partners."

"Well, you're judging her based on our current quarian sexual morality," her mother continued after taking a few sips from her drink, "which isn't even ours by choice. Sex isn't the same for asari as it is for us. They don't run the risk of dying just to get a kiss. Sexually transmitted diseases can be prevented with the proper medication. Asari don't get pregnant if they don't want to." There was a long pause as her mother drank the remainder of her drink, unplugging the canister from her visor. "I've never seen her use drugs. I've never seen her do anything while out in public, not even a kiss. She's not in any gangs. I think she has plenty of respect for herself."

Riah's face scrunched up in confusion. "Ok… so what? Why the sudden lesson in friendship and happiness? Why now?"

Yili sighed, "Your mother reserves the right to feel sentimental whenever she feels like it," she laughed airily, "I guess I'm feeling a little sentimental because we're going to be leaving soon. It's something that I've been putting off for so long." She stretched before lying down on her couch. "And I'm worried about you Riah. You're my baby daughter… but I have to admit this station made you pick up terrible habits. You had to, to survive. But out there in civilized space your racism won't endear you to anyone. It didn't endear you to anyone here."

Riah didn't have any response to that.

Her mother yawned from her couch, taking one of the couch's blankets and covering herself as she did so. "I'm exhausted. Set alarm, 1 hour," she spoke into her omni-tool. "Keep the volume down dear, we'll figure out what we'll do about the convoy tomorrow. Today let's just rest."

Riah sighed, opening her omni-tool and accessing the station's local net, whoever was managing it should be killed for the garish design and searched through the news bulletin, looking for information about the incoming convoy. There it was, nestled between an advertisement for the Blue Booty Bitches strip club on the 57th floor, no doubt one of the clubs ghost Santi had visited on his nightly jaunts, and a bulletin reminding everyone that varren weren't allowed on the station and would be shot on sight by the enforcers. Santi and Katja had managed to make the news, a forum thread detailing their meteoric rise to celebrity status with their robot shop. Riah was barely mentioned.

The convoy would be arriving in two days from now and would be departing for one of the more semi-official Citadel systems. Riah did some quick mental math and tried to plot a course using some stellar maps she'd found online; their business had been lucrative enough in such a small time that they could eat a few expenses on the way back to…

"Shit," Riah muttered, realizing that their four-man party would soon meet its' end. Santi and his mother had to head back to Gaian systems… but they'd probably be arrested first. Illegal immigration was treated seriously by the Immigration Authority. "They'll be fine," Riah added to her thoughts, "The Citadel will probably ship them back to the Gaian authorities. And they might cut a deal in exchange for into on those people they were running from…" Riah settled on an old movie, turning the volume on low so as to not wake her mother who was still sleeping peacefully. "And I guess me and mom go back to the Flotilla."

* * *

Riah looked at her mother, who nodded. "Ok," she whispered, "Everyone agrees?" she felt something touch her left shoulder twice, Santi and Katja's consent. "Ok, let's get a ticket." Her fingers flew over her holographic keyboard as she accessed the station extra-net and began typing a message to the merchant convoy, their contact information having been put up into the station's bulletin board.

"Subject…" she began filling out the message, wondering what would catch the attention of a merchant convoy. "Will pay big money for room."

She felt a hand on her right shoulder just as her mother spoke up, "No, don't say that. Ask them what their prices are, we don't want to over pay."

"Will pay for room," Riah quickly changed the She then switched to the body of the message, "Hello, I live on Vanidia Station and want to lea-"

"No, say you are thinking of leaving," Yili interrupted, "The Upper Families look at all outgoing messages and we can be sure they'll notice ours. We don't want to look like we planned this."

"Right," Riah edited her message, "Hello, I live on Vanidia Station and am thinking of leaving. How much do you charge for passage?" She nodded to herself, "Is it possible to book a private room? Thank you." She looked over to her mother, who was reading the short message back to herself. "This look fine?"

She felt Katja and Santi say yes, her mother agreeing that it was best to keep the message simple. "Send it," she said, the computer chiming as the message was sent on its way. "And now we wait." She sighed, leaning back into the couch.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Riah asked, wondering how long their wait would be.

Her mother shrugged, resting her elbows on her knees and propping her head up with her hands. "I don't know, the convoy is supposed to arrive tomorrow? They might be ten light years out… it really just depends on whether or not they have someone on comms; they should. The closer a convoy gets to a station the more and more people who start offering deals for shipments or transport."

They only had to wait a few minutes before receiving a reply.

 **pinnyE on 3158.03.29 said:**

 _Hello quariangamerprinces3640 ,_

 _We've got a couple of rooms left on the Viga. We charge a flat fee of 2k per room. Each room is 10 square meters, with two bunks and a small restroom, fee pays for a single meal once a day, if you want to eat after that you either pack your own supplies or you pay for every extra meal. Gotta warn you, we're booked on cargo space for shipments to other stations. So if you are using our services to move off the station, the room will be packed. Either pack lightly or rent an extra room for your personal belongings._

 _Click here to pay._

Riah followed the link and was led to a rather well-made website for the merchant ship _Viga_ , which was a cargo/passenger ferry. There was a short crew bio, lists on the costs of extra services and even some safety policies. It was quite a bit of effort for a ship that probably picked up quite a few criminals at every station; ships don't come anywhere near this sector of space if they were 100% clean.

"Get two rooms," her mother said as Riah set up the payment process, "We can say we're using it to hold our things, or that we want separate rooms. Also," she added, "I don't think we want to be in such a cramped space when Santi and Katja bring themselves back to the land of the living. We'd be packed in such a small space."

Riah knew that Santi wouldn't mind being in such close quarters to her mother.

To protect her mother from his lascivious desires, she went ahead and booked two rooms.

"Me and my mom take one room," she said as the payment went through, internally saying goodbye to four thousand credits, "and Santi and Katja take the other room. They didn't ask me how many people were coming, so we should be fine."

Riah felt a hand on her left shoulder.

 _For once, he agrees with me._

* * *

"Come on mom," Riah said impatiently, adjusting her heavy backpack. Today was the day, they were on a clock and the sooner they could get aboard their ship out of here the less time the Upper Families had to stop them. And now her mother chooses to get sentimental again. She had been standing at their doorway, looking into their home of nearly seventeen years. She muttered something in Khelish that Riah didn't quite catch before shutting off the lights and locking the door. Riah pretended that she couldn't see the tears in her mother's eyes. "Let's get going mom, we don't have much time."

Her mother nodded and turned around and shouldered her own heavy backpack and activating their hover-cart which carried a few other supplies. She began to pat herself down before Riah rolled her eyes.

"Mom, we have everything. We've already triple checked. Let's go." And with that she turned around and locked eyes with Saestzea.

Riah had never seen Sae this late at night, the convoy ships had arrived slightly past midnight. She was usually in bed by now or getting in some late night gaming or, more recently, staying up while Santi and Katja spent a late night at their place. On the rare occasions that she was out in the hall she'd never seen Saestzea; Riah imagined that nighttime was her working hours doing heavy lifting on her back or on her knees. The asari girl looked so _normal_ without her heavy makeup on. Her pajamas looked so _conservative._ The only reason Riah recognized her was because of the two distinctive moles Sae had under her right eye. The blue girl's eyes moved from Riah's to her mothers, then glanced at their backpacks and over to the hover-cart, then back to Riah's. Then she smiled warmly and gave the two of them a wave goodbye.

Riah returned the wave, the two girls continuing to wave to each other until the elevator doors closed them off from each other's view.

Riah sat down in the elevator seats as they sped downwards to the docks, the pack that held Santi and Katja's remains sitting in her lap. She realized she didn't have Sae's extra-net address and would now never know what would become of her.

The rest of the ride down was passed in silence, Riah feeling a soft patting motion on her shoulder. It wasn't her mother, which left Santi or Katja as the culprit. She wasn't in the mood to argue and instead put her hand up where she felt the comforting gesture.

Soon the elevator reached the docs, the doors hissing open and revealing the loud clamoring of maneuvering thrusters, dock workers giving out orders, machinery of all sorts moving to and fro and the cautionary beeps of cargo-loaders. There were even a few other people milling about, she assumed the other passengers of the _Viga_.Riah had never been down here and her eyes were immediately drawn to all the new sights and sounds. Despite being a quarian and living in space her entire life she'd never once seen a spaceship.

She caught sight of the _Viga,_ smoothly approaching her berth. There was something beautiful about the sight that Riah couldn't quite identify. The ship itself was crap, she knew that much. She could tell it was an aging piece of junk. But it was still beautiful.

"Hey!"

She wondered how much it would cost to-

"Hey you, robot girl!"

Riah froze. Turning, she saw an asari come up to her, scars and burns littering her face. She was one of the Upper Family guards that had been placed outside her shop. She greeted Riah and Yili with a sneer.

"Where are you going?" she asked, looking between the two of them, their packs and their luggage. She glanced over at the _Viga_ as it completed its docking procedures. "Off station?" she smirked as she began to circle around them, two other asari coming to join them. "Do the Families know about this?"

Riah glanced at her mother and caught sight of her hand hovering near a bag on her hip, the hold-out pistol nestled beneath some random luggage; the SMG hidden underneath Riah's backpack suddenly felt incredibly out of reach. Riah saw frost form at the edges of her visor.

"Of course they do," Riah's mother answered, "They haven't stopped us have they?" The three asari looked at each other and she pressed on. "The Upper Families read every extra-net message to and from this station don't they? We booked our flight out yesterday morning," she stated, never taking her eyes off of the lead asari, "That's been long enough for your masters to have noticed. It's been long enough for them to have said no if they wanted to."

The injured asari scowled, her face looking even more malicious with her injuries. "You know your little girl has caused me a lot of trouble," she spat before turning to Riah, "Long boring hours of nothing but damn watch duty looking after a spoiled brat." She traced a finger along a large scar on her cheek, staring at Riah the entire time. "You know I had to read up on humans for my assignment," she frowned, "you hear interesting things about humans on the extra-net." She leaned forward, her hostile face violating Riah's space. "Did you know that no humans died on Lluvia when those mercs shot up several city blocks?"

"So?" Riah asked, wondering how many people knew about the reality of human resurrection.

"Don't play stupid suit-rat. You think it's a coincidence that the human golemetrist and his mother suddenly try to make homebrew fuel and happen to die just as a convoy ship fly in? Watch them," she ordered her accomplice before turning and activating her omni-tool.

Riah moved closer to her mother, who put a comforting hand on her own. She also felt someone touch her other hand and imagined it was Santi. It may have been Katja. But she knew it was Santi.

The asari woman was having a heated discussion with whoever was on the other end of that call if her wild gestures were anything to go by.

Over in the distance she saw people disembarking from the _Viga_ while groups of people carrying luggage began to gather around a female turian, someone Riah recognized from the crew bio for the ship. She heard the crew member call out the names, travelers stepping forward to verify their IDs. The asari was still on her call as Riah strained to overhear more conversation from the area near the passenger ship.

"Let them go."

Riah's head snapped back to the asari, an incredibly sour look on her face. She almost looked pained to release the two quarians before her. The two asari at her flanks gave her puzzled looks.

"The Upper Families," she slowly released the hurtful words from her blue mouth, "have decided that they don't believe in ghost stories. They have also decided that you aren't _worth_ anything to them; that resources could be spent elsewhere in a more productive fashion."

Riah felt her mother grip her hand.

"So," she asari enforcer continued, "I was ordered to spend my time in a more productive manner, guarding the shipment of goods being unloaded from the merchant fleet." Mother and daughter and son and mother hesitated. "Get the fuck out of here suit-rats."

Riah and her mother had never walked so fast without breaking out into a run, the asari glaring at them the entire way.

"You Riah?" the female turian asked as she saw them approach.

"Yes, that's me, that's me!" Riah replied, fumbling with her omni-tool to bring up the purchase verification codes. "Two rooms, right next to each other. We've got two friends coming with us."

The turian looked up from her omni-tool and scanned the docking area. "I don't see anyone else here. They better get here fast."

"They'll be here."

The turian sighed, rubbing the exoskeleton ridges on her nose. "I can't stay and guard the bay all day-"

"Then don't," Riah jumped, "You go and do whatever you need to do. I'll wait here for them and let them in. It's just two extras." The turian girl just looked at her.

"Don't worry," Yili added, "After this, they won't cause any more problems. They're just running a little late."

The turian looked down, and a groaning sound came from her stomach, causing her to wince in embracement. "Alright kid, stay here and let your friends in. Your ma can go in and set your rooms up. I've got places to be and things to eat." She walked off in the direction of the dock eatery, chatting into her earpiece about two more passengers that would arrive soon.

Yili hugged her daughter as soon as the turian walked off, her body shaking in excitement. "We did it!" she whispered in her ear. "Katja is with me, we'll go up to our rooms and get started on her resurrection. Get aboard fast ok?" Riah agreed and watched as her mother left with most of their luggage, climbing the ramp up to the ship and casting one last glance at Riah before disappearing into the illuminated interior of the ship.

Riah turned around and looked back at the docks one last time.

"Santi?" she whispered and felt his hand on hers. "Let's get the fuck off this station."

The quarian and the ghost both boarded the ship.


	17. Investigation 1

Spirits, she was a bombshell.

She had it all; enticing blue asari skin, subtle makeup, big pouty lips, a big heaving bosom that you just wanted to lose yourself in, curves and hips that promised the deepest, wildest ride of your life and legs that stretched from here to the Traverse with an ass that could deflect mass accelerator fire. She was the type of woman that could make even a keeper stop in its tracks and lift its jaw up from the floor. The galaxy's gift to all men and women everywhere.

If you went for that sort of thing.

I didn't.

My woman, sweet Pia, is flat and nerdy. She could also shoot a charging krogan's knees right from under him and fly a cargo hauler like it was a racing aircar. My partner in crime. Or crime solving, as it were.

"Mister Casvius," she said, her voice like Thessian silk, "I need you to do something for me."

See, the only reason the blue busty beauty came into my office was because she was looking for her rich big-shot husband, some salarian by the name of Lucky Bastard. Said he'd gone missing during Samhain or Krampusnacht and she wanted to confirm he was dead for insurance purposes. The Gaians might have been ok with whatever freaky shit happened on those two nights, but the Cit authorities weren't. So our asari bombshell, who went by Mrs. Bayora in case you weren't wondering, wanted to get some evidence that he was actually dead and gone and finally claim his estate. What a bitch.

Pia glanced at me and I glanced at her, then I glanced back at big blue boobs just in time to catch some nice cleave action, then I glanced back at Pia.

Frankly, Samhain and Krampusnacht were the reason me and Pia and the rest of the crew were thinking of leaving the business. We'd rather forget all of that and go somewhere else and hide our sorry faces from the rest of the galaxy. From the shame and from the nightmares.

We said as much, well, I didn't exactly say that. Didn't want to look like a coward in front of my girl, a man has to keep up some sort of reputation, but then the asari heiress put a credit figure on the table.

Me and Pia aren't greedy people, neither are any of my crew. We'd sometimes take jobs for free if we thought the case was good enough. Like the time we busted that batarian sex slave ring. On the house. But like I mentioned, we all wanted out. And the amount of money this asari was putting on the table was enough to set us all up for life.

My father's voice rang in my head. "If a drop dead gorgeous woman offers you a lot of money to do something for her, you do it!" My father was an idiot and got himself killed by his asari mistress.

But I didn't have any asari mistresses.

We took the job then and there.

We told the crew about the job, though we made sure that they understood something important; if they wanted to sit this one out they could. If it came down to it, me and Pia would do the jobs ourselves. Either way they'd get their share of the reward. Nargon, the big ol' nut, agreed immediately, said Vaul's vigilance was eternal, that a true krogan never lets evil escape his sight. Detius hesitated but eventually agreed to come on with us. I was relieved that he did, he was the only one of us who really knew how to clean a wound and stitch us back up; crazy bastard once ejected a heat sink right into a bullet wound I had, sterilizing the wound, cauterizing it and plugging it up all in one go. No expensive medical kits required.

Florilea took up our offer and sat this one out. I didn't blame her. She was the one that got snatched by those things. Still had the bite marks on her arm. Pia took her aside and had a quick talk with her. They were the only two girls on our crew, so they had a special bond us men couldn't understand. Pia gave her the keys to our place and told her to stay there until her brother came back from whatever case he was on. Since our business was often dangerous, even without all this spooky magic nonsense the Gaians were shitting all over the galaxy, there was always a chance some of us wouldn't come back. Florilea would get everyone's cut of the reward to either keep or, in Detius' case, pass on to our family.

After that, we set off.

* * *

Well actually, we didn't.

What we did instead is spend two days filling out the necessary paperwork required to travel into Gaian Protectorate space. That means passports, going through customs, firearm permits, getting the Cit authorities to talk to the Gaian ones authorizing our status as private investigators in their space.

And finally a four hour wait in line outside the Mass Relay that led into Protectorate space.

So here I was, sitting up on the bridge with Pia by my side. The doors were locked and Pia was demonstrating her magic hands.

"How long do you think this'll last?" Pia asked me.

"Soon." I said. "Use both-"

"Incoming transmission."

" _Finally_." Pia exclaimed, letting go of me and putting her hands to use on that keyboard. Damn keyboard. Damn border patrol. "This is Captain Canipia of the _Detective Maiden_ ," she began, shooting me a look.

"And this is Detective Casvius," I replied.

Huh. No response.

I got interrupted for this?

"Yes, _Detective Maiden_. You are cleared for travel into Gaian Protectorate space. The Citadel Travel Advisory would like to remind you…"

I started tuning out. Frankly I didn't want to hear the voice of whatever Asari was on the other end of that intercom. Firstly, she interrupted me and Pia's happy time. Secondly, she sounded so boring. There she was, aboard that awesome space station that oversaw the border between civilized space and the wild Gaian magic monster world and what was she doing? Giving me some boring travel advisory information..

Interstellar travel had never been so boring.

Actually, that stuff about mass effect travel is probably important.

"Is there any list of suitable discharge worlds?" My better half asked. Thankfully her mind wasn't still half muddled with sexy thoughts.

Oh no.

Does that mean I am a bad lover?

"The Gaian Protectorate does not use mass effect travel," the asari began, telling us something that we already knew. "And the Gaian Protectorate is making no real efforts to active Mass Relays within their territory. I understand you may need to travel outside of the Carcosa system while you investigate your case but I cannot provide any further information at this time. You will have to contact Gaian authorities yourself for more information."

"Thanks," Pia said.

"Shit," I mumbled. Hopefully the salarian was still on Lluvia or the nearby solar systems.

"You are now cleared for Mass Relay travel," the asari said before cutting off. A pop up appeared on our screen, flight directions for Relay travel.

I flicked on the ship wide intercom with my talon, "This is Cas," I began. "Prepare for Relay travel."

Pia rolled her eyes at me.

The crew didn't have to "prepare for Relay travel", for the most part space travel at sublight speeds was imperceptibly different from faster than light.

But it always sounded cool.

I watched as the giant Prothean relic grew to dominate the bridge window. These things always impressed me, how could they not? These things were massive, nigh indestructible and held so much element zero that they could make time, space and the laws of relativity bend over like an asari. Thousands of light years in an instant. The corner stone of all of galactic civilization.

I always wondered if we'd ever figure out how to make our own.

The element zero core flared as we approached, I could almost see a few of the stars ahead of us bend and warp as the Relay did its thing, building a path of massless space for us. An amazing feat of mastery over time and space itself.

All to help me find a missing husband and settle a will dispute.

One second there was nothing ahead of us.

The next there were golden saucers, Carcosa Station and Lluvia.

And somewhere in there was the lucky salarian that got to see Mrs. Bayora naked.

And I was getting paid to drag his corpse back to Citadel space.

* * *

"You are not authorized. You are not authorized."

I stared at the damn robot in front of me. These things always gave me the creeps. The Gaians had a freakish tolerance for AIs and robots. While I had been assured that these robot cops weren't AIs but just amazingly sophisticated law enforcement drones I still felt a twitching in my fringe whenever I was around one.

"I am Detective Casvius," I began, bringing up my omni-tool and flashing my credentials along with all the other paperwork I had been handed by Jeniz. "This is my partner, Detective Canipia," I added, introducing my one and only. "I have been cleared by your superiors to investigate Dr. Bayora's residence."

The robot stared at my credentials; at least I assume it did. It didn't have a face.

"Verifying. Verifying."

I looked around the hallway while it did, noting a few more of the things stationed outside other apartments down the hall. More missing people. Samhain had vanished around twenty people and Krampusnacht made off with a few dozen. All things considered, more people vanished each year in some of the other border worlds. Colonies near Hegemony space sometimes "disappeared" entirely under "unexplained" circumstances that had absolutely nothing to do with Hegemonic slaving rings. And frankly, the lucrative trade opportunities still attracted more and more Citadel species to this planet.

Still, the way the Protectorate had handled the disappearances hadn't won them any goodwill.

"You are authorized. You are authorized."

The machine cop turned around and unlocked the door for us, Canipia walked in backwards, her eyes never straying way from the thing. She trusted the things less than I did.

"Well Boss, I think we can rule out those two nights." Pia said, pointing above the front door. I followed her finger and saw those weird glowing "wards" the Gaians put over everything.

"Maybe," I mumbled. "You," I said to the machine, "are these wards still functional?" I had no clue how to check, no one in Citadel space did. For all I knew these things did absolutely nothing and were just a scam for us filthy foreigners.

"These wards were crafted by a certified guild. They hold enough charge for the next five years."

"When people disappeared a while ago," Pia voiced my thoughts, "They were either outside or inside wardless buildings."

"Let's not rule out anything yet," I replied before heading further into the apartment, "Why don't you talk to the house VI while I look around?" Pia nodded and headed off to the house VI terminal, her omni-tool flaring to life as she flashed her credentials. Meanwhile I started the traditional detective work – snooping. Time to see if this guy had any nudes of his wife lying around. Not likely though, salarians were crazy frigid.

I hope against hope.

The guy's living room was dominated by a giant screen hooked up to some amazing sound systems. That was top of the line stuff that was. Everything in here screamed money. I bet if I sat down my ass would shoot up in value just because it had touched an authentic Thessian biotic couch. Shit, the living room table was one of those smart tables with a built in VI using mass effect fields to move objects placed on it into artistic arrangements. There was a vase of flowers, all of which were probably more valuable than my own life insurance, surrounded by several datapads that slowly circled around it. Datapads. Only idiots buy these. Oh look, all of these are Armali Council brand. That explains it. I approached the table and made to pick one up, the table's VI raising them up so that I wouldn't have to bend down. Neat. There wasn't anything useful on these things; a bunch of newsletters, a subscription to some academic journals and a few reading books. Though a lot of these were related to things in the medical field. Made sense, Mrs. Bayora had told me that Dr. Missing was some sort of bleeding edge medical expert. Came here to study Gaian medical technologies.

He was probably after their resurrection technology.

Him and the rest of the galaxy.

Couldn't blame them. The Gaian "Anima Wells" are the second most sought after piece of technology in the galaxy right now, right after their FTL method.

All in all though, the place was very neat and tidy. Doesn't look like there was a struggle. My omni-tool wasn't picking up anything, no traces of blood or chemicals.

"Boss," I heard Pia call out to me from the VI terminal. "Our missing man wasn't home on Samhain, the VI logs him leaving home at 5:37 PM. But he came home the next day at 7: 25 AM."

I mulled that information over. "Mmmh, does the VI know where he went?"

She shook her head, "Sorry Boss, but no. The VI's predictive system only notes that it wasn't a regular trip he made. He usually left in the early mornings and came back in the late afternoons. The boy's social life was pretty dull, he rarely went out and never all night. But that's when he bought those wards up there," she pointed back the glowing runes she'd pointed out earlier, "and he stayed home all day on Krampusnacht along with two other people."

"Friends?" I asked, "Does the VI have a recording we can see?"

Pia did her magic and boom. Security feed. There's our guy along with two Gaians. Humans. Our man looked nervous and jittery, the humans not so much. One of them was wearing a nametag from the nearby medical center.

"Well, thankfully we can rule out those two nights," I breathed, Pia nodding in agreement.

"The VI did pick something up though," my lady love continued, "These two guys showed up more and more after that day. This guy here," she pointed at the guy without a nametag, "was the last person to see our missing friend."

Huh.

"Robot," I snapped my fingers, the thing turning to look at me from outside the doorway. Technically the thing was a certified police officer, but I didn't give a damn. "Hey you. When the police came in to investigate this, did they pull this image from the VI?"

It looked at the image displayed for a second or two before answering. "Yes, both men are currently suspects in the disappearance of Olik Bayora. The individual wearing the LlMRC nametag is one Ricardo Pillar, the other has been identified as Steven Smith. He is unaccounted for."

Our first clue. Home VIs made detective work so easy! It's like the credits were just walking into my bank account.

Time to delegate.

"Pia, get this-"

"Got it Boss." Ah sweet Pia, you know me so well. You already knew what I was going to ask you to do. It's so obvious that I won't even think about it anymore.

Instead, I brought up my omni-tool as I headed towards the salarian's bedroom. Nothing out of the ordinary here. A few pairs of clothes, Salarian high fashion. Never understood what that plastic handle across the chest is for. Lab coat for LlMRC along with a name tag. A few more datapads. Small picture of Mrs. Bayora. Well, that's evidence and I'm confiscating it.

Oh hello. Desktop computer. I walked over to it, turned it on and and gave it the cyber equivalent of a handshake, my omni-tool's police scanner bypassing the initial login password. Luckily these were all Cit computers. Had they been Gaian made my software wouldn't have worked on them. Luckily it looks like his extranet email is… yup. Auto-login. He probably left it logged in since it's his personal computer, no one would have gotten past the login screen. And he would have been right if not for the Cyber Investigative Act.

Democracy. Where we vote to take away your right to privacy.

Lots of emails between our missing man and what looked like several colleagues. RE: Hemamancers?, RE:RE:RE: Surgery Options, FW: Human-Asari Biology, CC: Security Update. Looked like pretty standard stuff for a medical community. Some spam email and…

Well, this one was interesting.

ss09 on 1.31.3471 said:

We'll move you tonight.

ss09? Steven Smith?

Mysterious email, mysterious disappearance, last seen with the victim.

"This is Nargon."

"Narg," I am incredibly lucky that all of my close friends' names can be shortened so easily. "I'm here with Pia at the salarian's place. Are you at the police station?"

"I am," the giant lizard's voice boomed through my omni-tool as I continued browsing through the computer. "I like the cops here," he chuckled. "They do not cower before the footsteps of a krogan warrior. They are kind and respectful to me. They are unlike C-Sec."

If I didn't know better it sounded like Narg was actually enjoying his time at a police station. For a change.

"Wonderful," I said. I even meant it too. Jobs always go easier when the cops are on our side. "What have you learned?"

My old buddy started reading over the police reports. He ended up saying some stuff that I already knew, but also gave me something new. He read me Pillar's statement. The man claimed to have struck up a friendship with Bayora while at LlMRC. He claimed that the other guy, Smith, was a mutual acquaintance, some new hire at the same place that both of them got along with but weren't particularly close with.

So, either Pillar and Smith were both accomplices and Pillar was selling his buddy out or… well, he could have just been what he says he is. Just some guy with terrible luck putting him right at the heart of a missing person case.

"There's something else too," Narg went on. "There's someone here who is also checking on the case."

"Some sort of police detective?" I asked. I always hated working with real detectives. They made me feel inadequate.

"Yes and no. He's some special agent the Protectorate sent out. He is displeased that the local enforcement hasn't solved this case yet. He overhead me asking about the case and-"

"You talked to him yet?" I asked. "Maybe we can team up. It'll be easier for us." Plus, Gaians apparently can't die, so if we got into a shooty situation we can throw this special agent hotshot in front of all the bullets. I'm sure Narg would appreciate the short vacation.

"Yes I would."

New voice.

"I'm assuming this is the special agent my partner talked about?" I asked, finding several more emails between Bayora and ss09.

"Templar Klein," the voice answered. "I have a proposition for you."

I'd heard of the Templars. Some sort of super big shots with the Gaians. I made my way back to the living room and motioned Pia over, who was moving around the room looking for anything that I had overlooked. "Excuse me Templar," I said, not knowing how to address the guy. "Would you mind if I involved my entire team in this call? I run my investigations with my entire team present."

"Of course, Templars understand unity."

"Who's that?" Pia asked quietly.

"Some sort of Gaian special agent," I responded, calling up Detius and adding him to the call.

"Hey Cas what's with the group chat? I'm here at the research center. Pia told me to-"

"Right," I cut him off, "I've got Templar Klein on the line," heh, "said he might be able to help us out."

"A pleasure." The Templar replied over my omni tool, "As I was explaining to your krogan associate here, I was sent to investigate the disappearance of Dr. Bayora after local enforcement agencies were deemed inadequate for the job."

I looked at Pia at that. It seemed to me that the local cops were more than adequate. Most of the things we learned were already in the police report.

"It seems that our goals are one and the same. I am here to discern the whereabouts for Dr. Bayora and, hopefully, return him safe and sound to the proper authorities. You…"

He trailed off, and I realized he was letting me talk.

"We're here to bring him back… preferably dead." Oh, that sounded bad. "At least, his wife seems to think he's dead, and she wants to settle a legal dispute."

"Then cooperation would be copacetic." The man continued. "And if it indeed comes to pass that Dr. Bayora is still with the living, fear not. The Templars reward our allies, and I can promise you a nice sum of money. Citadel credits, of course. I suspect that Mrs. Bayora would not do the same were Dr. Bayora alive to claim his estate."

Well, he has me there. Curvy and Busty didn't exactly seem like the type of woman to welcome her husband back with open bosom, especially if he kept her out of reach of all his money. And while it wasn't flat out said she was paying us a ton of money to "verify" his death. We would never do such a thing, my own crew would sooner shoot me for killing an innocent man for money. While I was sure our contract with Mrs. Bayora would guarantee payment in either case, I'm sure someone she could make it difficult for us to collect our pay if things didn't go her way.

"What do you gain from this?" I asked.

"A fine question." The Templar responded, I could almost hear him smile. "The Protectorate, and the Templars, wish to prove ourselves valuable allies. I understand that, if we are to work together, I would be the first Templar to work an investigation alongside Citadel authorities. We would be making history and I would gain valuable experience working alongside your people."

"How much are you paying?" Pia asked. Right on the money.

"Of course we can discuss payment. Ten thousand now," the man responded, his voice still friendly, "and another ten thousand for each of your associates upon completion of the case. Fifty thousand in total."

"Sixty thousand , actually." Pia responded, "One of our crew members couldn't come with us on this mission, but we promised her a share of the payment."

Good thinking Pia, can't forget about sweet Florilea. Though this guy might not take kindly to the increase in cash. He might think we're lying just to get more money out of him.

"Sixty thousand is fine. To reiterate, you will be paid ten thousand up front and an additional ten thousand for each of your crew, all five of them. Whether I pay out of pocket or expense the costs to the Templars, you will be paid. I guarantee this. Mind you, this will only be the case if Dr. Bayora is indeed alive. I'm sure you will be paid by Dr. Bayora's weeping widow if he were not."

Well, that all sounded win-win to me. If the salarian is dead the blue goddess pays us alot. If he's alive then the Templars pay us alot. Worst case scenario, we only make ten thousand each. Not enough to retire in luxury but enough to get out and maybe find easier jobs. Best case, we get paid double if Blue upholds her contract. Seemed clear cut to me.

"Pia?" I asked, turning over to my sweetheart. "I'd like to hear your opinion love."

"I say we take it Boss," she responded, still keeping up with the professionalism even if I didn't. "We could use the help of the authorities. We've got nothing to lose either."

"We are down a person," Det added. "We could use the extra person to make up for Florilea's absence. Plus, he's a Gaian. I'd feel better knowing we have our own freaky magic person with us. No offense."

"None taken," the Templar replied.

I really needed to teach Det not to say things like that anymore. He always opened his mouth without thinking.

It's why he didn't get the girl like I did.

"I am eager to see a Gaian in combat," Narg cheered.

Well, there it was. Unanimous vote to bring on the special agent cop promising big sums of money.

"Well Templar Klein," I proclaimed, "Looks like my team of wayward detectives are all in agreement. Let's solve this case together."

"Wonderful," the Templar said, and the smack I heard was probably him shaking hands with Narg. "I look forward to meeting you and solving this case."

"Speaking of," Detius began before my omni-tool notified me he was sending an attachement. "I got Smith's file from the center. It's got an address listed and since he seems to be our main guy right now why don't we all take a walk and visit him?"

"An excellent idea, I know the area very well," the Templar continued, no doubt looking at the info on Nargo's omni-tool. "Detectives, if you will?"

"Sounds good," I agreed, "Everyone head to that location and wait for the group to assemble… but keep your distance! We don't want to tip this guy off. That means you Det."

I heard the kid groan. He hates being scolded in front of other people, but it's his own damn fault. He needs to stop being so jumpy. Everyone agreed and the call ended shortly after that. Det promised he'd be careful.

"Well, let's go." Pia said, looking around the place one last time before leading me out the door. Again, she kept her eyes on the robot at the entrance. "What do you think," she began as we started walking down the hall, our rental aircar just outside, "about all this? Hopefully bringing that Templar on board with us will keep us out of major trouble. Might make it easier on us."

"Yeah." I agreed.

"Or make it harder."


	18. Investigation 2

"What are you thinking about, Boss?" Pia asks me as traffic starts moving.

"I _should_ be thinking about the case," I say as I put my hand on her thigh. She laughs, a pretty combination of girly giggle and nerdy snort that made her glasses rise up as her nose crinkled. How did I get so lucky? She puts her hand over mine, giving me a gentle squeeze. "But you know me, my mind wanders."

"Well," her voice is higher than normal. "Well, why don't you look up these Templars?" Someone honks at us when we take too long at the stoplight, "Find some info on our new investigator."

"Great idea sweetie," I agree, bringing my hand back up and activating my omni-tool. "Avina, tell me about the Gaian Templars." Hopefully Pia had fixed the voice commands on my omni-tool. Otherwise I'd look like an idiot talking into my wrist.

Luckily the voice commands did work. But you can't avoid looking like an idiot when you are talking into your wrist.

Avina told me everything she knew about the Templars. Which wasn't a lot. Can't blame her, the electronic cutie was only relaying what the Citadel Library knew about the Protectorate and could actually verify. And a lot of stuff the Protectorate said was completely unverifiable. Actually, that's not true. All the stuff they were saying was verifiable. Believable?

That's what the problem was.

So Avina tells me what she knows; the Templars are a human-only para-military organization that combats all the horrors that lurk on Gaia. And if their histories are to be believed they've been doing their thing two and a half millennia before the Citadel Council was formed. Of course! It reminds me of all the terrible conspiracy theories we've got. Like the Unification Wars being a hoax. Or the asari being telepathic blobs of jelly that cast illusions into our brains.

More relevant to me and my team was the fact that the Templars were an independent organization that functions almost like the SPECTREs do. Except still bound by Protectorate law. So not at all like the SPECTREs. Still, they were highly trained combat veterans with extensive resources backing them up and had a sort of legal authority over most Protectorate agencies. I couldn't help but draw comparisons to our own galactic special forces groups. Unlike the SPECTREs, the Templars had a net site. Even an email listing!

I thought about shooting them an email, but I wasn't sure what I'd say.

Luckily all the random browsing I was doing served to pass the time, and before I knew it Pia was nudging my shoulder and telling me that we'd arrived.

We pulled up to some weird looking apartments, all prefabs by the looks of them. Rows of bright blue containers stacked on top of each other and connected by stairways and elevators. All the nearby buildings were the same, even the stores. Lots of humans around in work coveralls, security uniforms or medical scrubs. I even saw some weird creature running a food stand, a group of people eating on nearby benches and tables. Being surrounded by so many humans meant that my little group of troublemakers stood out like-

"-a group of aliens." Det glanced around before deciding to pull his jacket's hood up.

My thoughts exactly kid.

But before I could agree with him I turned to a new voice, finding myself face to face with this Templar Klein. He… well. I was expecting that special forces look. Strong jaw, scary features, some sort of cut or scar that hinted at a fantastic battle. But he looked like any other human I'd seen. That was probably the point; the one SPECTRE I'd met also looked pretty unassuming. That way you never see them coming. But he looked alright, slicked blonde hair, blue eyes. If I didn't already know he was a Templar, I'd have imagined he was just some high-priced businessman. He had a pin on his tie, a small silver cross against red metal. I recognized it from browsing their website.

"You must be Detective Casvius," he said with a friendly smile, holding his hand out in that human gesture. "And Detective Canipia. It is a pleasure."

"Templar Klein," I said, returning the gesture. "It's nice to have some local help on our side. And speaking of which, why don't we get started?" I pointed at the nearby building, 413. Smith's apartment was number 59, which meant taking that haphazard elevator.

"Of course," the man agreed as he followed us on our way to the apartments. "Let us hope our first bit of field work is fruitful."

"It'll be frustrating if it isn't," Pia muttered. "We're working a weeks old case; we need to make up for lost time."

"You three go on up Cas," Det tapped me on my shoulder, "Me and Narg'll stay down here, take the front and back. If Smith is up there and he gets away from you, we'll catch him."

"Vaul runs down the guilty who flee." Narg declared before he trudged off in the direction of the back exit.

The Templar smirked as we made our way to the main elevator, past a few humans and an animal-person-thing who were all sitting around a holographic screen, cheering at some game. Someone kicked a ball into a net, the announcer screamed "goal" and everyone cheered. Looks fun.

"Your krogan associate reminds me of some of the Templar back home," he chuckled as he called down the elevator. "I was not aware the krogan were religious."

"They aren't," Pia answered, "Nargon's an odd one." She nudged me, "Boss, you remember how we found him?" I chuckled. Of course I did, but Pia loved telling the story. "We were on Vessus, trying to find an asari teenager who had run off and…" the elevator arrived and we all filed in, Pia continuing the tale after we settled in. "We track her to some asari monastery. Turns out the matriarch," she begins laughing, tears already forming as she starts recalling the funniest parts of the mission, "they were smuggling them out in diapers!" More laughter, the Templar begins smiling alongside her. "And Nargon busts out of a wooden crate…" Yeah. She's gone now.

Just because Pia loves telling the story doesn't mean she can actually tell it. Right now she's probably remembering the part where the matriarch attacked Nargon with a stone dil-

"Here we are," Pia composes herself, probably embarrassed that she acted so unprofessionally while on the job. "Fifth floor… we need to head to apartment 59," she points down the hallway and gestures for the Templar to step out first, glaring at me behind his back. "You!" she hisses as soon as he leaves the elevator. "We are professionals." She punctuates her displeasure with me by stomping on my foot. It doesn't hurt much but her anger hurts me emotionally.

I limp out of the elevator; Pia doesn't spare a glance in my direction. Luckily she stews in silence for only a few seconds before we reach 59, past some apartment blaring what sounds like the same game from downstairs.

And that's another one of the police drones.

"You are not authorized. You are not authorized."

It repeats in its dull robotic timber. I wonder why they always repeat themselves like that. There must have been some Gaian long ago who didn't hear the first "you are not authorized" and then got shot for crossing a police line. Maybe.

"Not to worry," our black suited friend begins as he steps up to the police drone and pulls out what looks like a datapad from his coat and holds it up to the drone's face. It must be his ID. "I am Templar Alexander Klein, investigating the disappearance of Olik Bayora." The datapad's screen starts flashing in some sort of code, the drone's glowing faceplate flashing in response.

"You are authorized," the drone responds, standing aside and unlocking the apartment unit for us. Pia once again walks into the apartment while facing the machine the entire time. Girl never changes.

The first thing I notice is the smell. My nose scrunches up in such disgust that I can almost hear my faceplates crack. I can almost see a haze of stench wafting in from a mess of a kitchen; it looks like Smith isn't too big on cleaning up after he eats, the kitchen sink is stuffed with old dishes. That wonderful combination of airborne flavor is enhanced by the fumes of alcoholic drinks; all packaged inside a too small apartment and left to ferment for weeks.

Smith's work clothes from the LlMRC are tossed over the side of the nearby couch. There's a small hallway big enough to lead to two rooms, I'm guessing the restroom and bedroom.

"Time to earn our pay," I mutter, omni-tool lighting up as I start moving around the living room. Pia gingerly opens up the restroom door and to both of our surprise the place is incredibly clean. Pia looks over at me and catches my incredulous stare. She shrugs, I shrug. We make a great team.

Well, there's not much to the living room. A giant viewing screen, what looks like some sort of Gaian video game console and a small sound system. There's a luggage bag next to the couch, half opened. I walk over to it and start rummaging through the thing; it looks like the uniform of some sort of sports team, a pair of sports shoes, a few medical supplies, a bottle of water and a white ball with black spots all over it. Underneath all of that there's some smart paper with sports plays sketched all over it. There's lots of tabs open with several more sports plays. Except one page which just has some writing at the bottom.

The Templar is standing behind me, his eyes closed. Odd, but every detective has his own method. I don't' want to bother him so I put the smart paper under my omni-tool's translation feature, hopefully I'm not just wasting my time on the name of a sports play or the address of some sports groupie Smith picked up.

About twelve seconds after I scanned the writing I get a translations and it looks like an address.

"I've got nothing," Pia announces sadly as she emerged from the bedroom, "Just a bed and a small dresser in there, nothing interesting except some clothes and a few bottles of medicine."

"And I've got these," I wave the smart paper in the air, "Got an address on it."

"And I have found Mr. Smith's tablet." The Templar added from the kitchen table, powering up the device.

"You call datapads tablets? Why? They aren't made of stone." Pia asked as we all started to gather around and compare our findings.

Pia has a habit of asking odd questions like that. She once asked a volus why they all wheeze… which actually turned out to be a pretty interesting conversation.

The Templar seemed fine with the question, responding with one of his own. "Why do you call them datapads? They aren't a collection of loose papers bound at one end."

Well, he's got her there. "Anything useful on it?" I ask before this evolves into some xenolinguistics discussion.

He hums as he flicks through the device, "Despite being sloppy with his kitchenware, Smith isn't so careless with his security. His email account is password locked." He sighed, putting the datapad into one of his coat pockets. "My Codex might be able to break its password, but I'd rather not linger in this foul smell longer than I have to."

We all agreed on that one and decided to wait outside again, Klein waking off to file some standard procedure stuff with the police drone.

We're about to leave, but Pia puts a hand on my arm before she starts pulling me towards the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"This doesn't seem odd to you?" she asked as we stopped at the kitchen sink. "The rest of this place is pretty well kept. Not spotless, but clean enough. Open up the window, spray some air-freshener and it's cleaner than our room on the _Detective Maiden_."

I guess Pia has a point, but I wasn't really getting what she was suggesting. I said as much.

"So," Pia said as she started digging through the sink, moving plates and cups and half-eaten food out of the way, "why does this sink look like it got three trashcans dumped on it?"

Now I understand.

I helped her dig through all the shit in the sink, though I think I got the worst of it when I put my hand into the sink and unclogged the drain. Looks like Pia had the right idea; I felt something down in the water clogging the drain. I pulled whatever it was out, the sink gurgling as all that garbage juice started going down the drain, the noise drawing the Templar over to us.

"Find something?" he asked.

I stared at the thing in my hand, a weird meaty object. I couldn't really tell what it was. It looked like some skinless animal but it was one I didn't recognize.

Pia slapped it out of my hand when it moved.

"What is that?" she gasped while I felt my plates squirm over my skin.

The Templar knelt down and picked up the vile looking creature, examining it in his hands. "This," he began as he stood up, holding the thing out for us to examine. Pia recoiled away from it. I did tool. "This is the handiwork of the Institute of Endless Life."

He scowled at the thing in his hands before they began to glow. They burst into flames and I was assaulted by the stench of burning skin. As soon as it started it was over and the Templar opened his hands, ashes and bones falling down.

"They are the reason I came to Lluvia."

* * *

I looked down at my food. The Templar had treated us to some food from the nearby stall, but after I held that thing in my hands I was having a bit of trouble eating. Seemed liked I was the only one with the problem though, since Pia was already on her third one.

The Templar had placed his Codex over Smith's tablet; the two devices "talking" to each other while it attempted to access Smith's emails and other private information.

In the meantime, he told us about the Institute of Endless Life and their quest for an "immortality serum".

"But why?" Det asked, his mouth full of taco before he remembered his manners and covered his mouth. "You guys already live forever don't you?"

The provider of food finished a drink from his cup before answering. "Yes and no. Age and illness cannot touch us; but violence can still end us. While mundane physical damage will simply shunt us into our spectral forms most Anima weaponry will still outright kill us. Likewise, if my body is completely annihilated in such a way that my spectral form has nothing to return to and I cannot find an Anima well in time, I would eventually lose my mind. A fate no different than death."

"Do your people have an afterlife?" Nargon asked. "How would you reach if it your soul is stuck in the world?"

It would be like him to view the Gaian's in a philosophical sense. I was just thinking about how hard crime-fighting would be in the future as more Gaians spread out throughout the galaxy. If the only way to put a human down for good was complete body disposal… well, sales of plasma-throwers would go through the roof. On the other hand I can't wait for the first human "murder" case to end when the human's ghost identifies the killer in court.

"I believe in one," the man said as he touched the silver pin on his tie, "Though I can't prove it exists."

"Fascinating," Det cut in, "But why don't we stick to things that'll help us in this case?"

I couldn't disagree that we were getting off topic, but seriously kid.

"Quite," the Templar said, who looked a bit embarrassed himself. I noticed Det suddenly wince in pain and since he was sitting across from Pia I knew his shin had been introduced to Pia's boots.

"So, this Institute wants to somehow get around the fact that your bodies are vulnerable? Like making your bodies indestructible?" Det guessed, no doubt reaching under the table to rub his shin. "Or something like that?"

"Exactly," our friend continued, "While we have greater freedom than most and can temporarily escape these mortal coils, we are still bound to our physical bodies. The Institute seeks to make our bodies untouchable by physical harm."

"That doesn't sound so bad," I added, "There are plenty of similar research efforts in Citadel space. Lots of people out there would be willing to pay for immortality. Especially…"

Nargon swallowed one of his tacos whole, though he had the presence of mind to cover his mouth while he talked. "The salarians are the single largest provider of funds for that field of research." He looked down at his empty plate and then glanced at my own. I put a protective hand over my last taco, I might not be hungry now but I will be in a while. "It is understandable; their lives are fleeting compared to those of the asari and the krogan."

"The Institute was once noble, attempting to extend the gift of immortality to all of Gaia's children. Founded only a few decades ago and drawing some of the finest minds they held immense public support, receiving funding from just about every nation on Gaia. They had very promising research."

"What happened?" Pia asked. "If they were still legit you wouldn't be investigating them."

The human sighed, "We know that their leader, Doctor Sibyl Anastas, became radicalized sometime in 1253 GC," he saw our blank stares, "Twelve years ago. It was around this time that the Institute split, around a quarter of their members condemning their new agenda and leaving; they founded Sirta Foundation, which is partnered with LlMRC. The Institute now kidnaps people for their horrifying experiments."

I mulled that one over. "So Bayora's probably dead already." Well, that might make Missus Busty happy.

"And if he is, we still need to find a body," Pia added.

"And hopefully it is still identifiable." The Templar added.

"What's that mean?" Det asked, and I was certain I didn't want to hear the answer.

"The creature we found in Smith's apartment is a rabbit. A newborn by the size of it." The Templar answered, "Members of the Institute usually experiment on a small animal on their own. They then apply what they've learned on their own to bigger research subjects. Dogs, cats, ghouls. Humans. And recently, aliens."

"So?" Det asked.

"Rabbits do not have eight eyes, two jaws and three heads."

Ok. I'm not hungry anymore. I push my last taco away from me, Nargon grinning as he reaches for it before Pia snatches it away from him. He gives me a sad look, but there's nothing I can do. My nerdette comes before you do buddy.

We're slightly startled by the Templar's Codex ringing.

"Ah, the technological wizardry is finished," Klein beams, wiping his mouth and hands before picking up Smith's datapad. "Let's see what he's been hiding."

* * *

We sat in silence for a while as he searched through Smith's information, occasionally dragging some files into his own Codex. Det stood up and stretched before waking a little ways off to see a sports game being held by a couple of children, Nargon headed back into the direction of the food stall, no doubt wanting to try some of the other foods.

I just sat next to Pia and held her hand.

"The address you lifted from that smart paper appears in a few of the emails between Smith and some unidentified persons," the Templar explained. He turned his device over and handed it to us, a map of Lluvia displayed on it.

This seemed important so I called the guys over, Narg took his sweet time with a grin on his face and a stacked plate in his hand.

It all looked pretty shady. What would Smith and Bayora need all the way out there in some mining complex two hours away from town on the very night that both of them disappear? Frankly, I'm surprised the local cops didn't already check out such an obvious hiding spot.

Klein went ahead and called the local mining company and found out, to our dull surprise, that the mining complex had been shut down about a week ago after the mineral vein they were after was completely exhausted. So that left us.

Of course, Klein reminded us that nothing stopped him from calling the local police and ordering a raid on the place… but he'd only be willing to do that once we confirmed that there was anything there to raid.

"Well, we've got no other leads," Pia sighed. I could tell she wasn't keen on driving all the way out there, especially since we'd blow at least four hours if the mines ended up being a bust. But she was right, we had no other leads.

"You sure we can't squeeze some more info from this Pillar guy?" Det asked. He was also against plan "Go investigate the mine" unless we were sure we had no other choice. Like Pia he worried it'd be a giant waste of time.

"The difference is that Pillar is still showing up to work," I responded, "Plus, since he cooperated with the cops I'm not worried that he'll try to get his ass off-world anytime soon. He hasn't tried since the cops first opened the case, so why would he now?"

Narg nodded, finally taking a break from eating. "Pia, remember your own words too. "We're working a weeks old case". We must find Bayora's corpse before it is disposed of and the longer we wait…"

"He's right Pia, Det." I continued, "And you just said that we've got no other leads."

Pia groaned, "I hate it when you use my own words against me."

"I learned well from the women in my life," I respond immediately. "Besides, all I'm doing is repeating what you've said. And in this relationship, you're clearly the smarter one."

She looks away but I know I've got her.

Det folds after that. He always does when it's four against one.

"So, we are in agreement then," Klein summarizes with a clap of his hand, "We head to the mines. When do we leave?"

I stand up, making eye contact with my little crew and our tag-along. And Det.

"Now."


	19. Investigation 3

I was startled out of my boredom when Pia suddenly yelped and reached over to take hold of the driver's wheel.

The car swerved exactly as I thought it would. Attempting to drive a car from the passenger's side seat isn't exactly the height of safety.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I slapped Pia's hands away, the girl resisting all the way.

"That's dangerous," she huffed, "I don't trust the car to drive itself!"

Oh. This again. I tried not to roll my eyes; I had learned my lesson after the last time this conversation came up. I stared at the dashboard as the self-navigation symbol started blinking before fully turning solid. "Pia, self-driving cars have been a thing for thousands of years now." Frankly, I found it odd that some people, my sweet Pia included, preferred driving on manual. "We are safer in the hands of this advanced computer software than we are in mine."

Pia growled at me. "I'm a better driver than you."

"And the car is a better driver than both of us." I sighed before going back to manual. I knew when I was defeated.

No man ever really won an argument with his woman.

But driving for another hour would be so boring.

Pia fiddled with the console, checking in on Narg and Det in the car behind us and the Templar in his private car ahead of us. "How are you guys?"

"Tired," I heard Det announce though a yawn. Kid couldn't sit still for more than a few minutes. "Why couldn't this mine be closer to the city? Narg fell asleep."

"I admit, this trip is tedious," the Templar added, "I am also tempted to sleep."

"You guys on manual control?" I ask, Pia frowning beside me.

"No."

"I don't even know how to drive," Det reminded us.

"We'll check in again when we get there," Pia quickly shut off the console, ending the conference call. She glared at me before pulling out the car's passenger seat display screen, the alien voice of some human newscaster chattering on about the weather; not that there was any need to, the weather on Lluvia was either "rain" or "chance of rain'. Right now it was rain, later on we'd get lucky with a chance of rain. After that I heard Pia switch over to one of the Citadel news networks; I'm amazed that this planet could even pick up Cit transmissions like that. Through the odd moments of buffering and loading I was able to hear some snippets of the new Volus Councilor's swearing in ceremony.

"You know there were protests," Pia murmured, "When they swore in Jotan Kur."

"I heard about that," I muttered, wondering if a politics discussion as going to make this ride any more boring and tedious. Well, there was only one way to find out. If I was lucky Pia would fall asleep and I'd get to chill on autopilot the rest of the way. "I think they argued that the volus don't deserve a Council seat because they haven't contributed enough to Citadel space. Or something like that."

Pia bristled, that wonderful anger on her face whenever she heard or saw an injustice. "Not enough contribution! They're bankrolling the military buildup against the Terminus! It's only because of their economic models that we even have a galactic economy in the first place." I still remember the headaches I got from the CB when I was trying to figure out our expenses on Lluvia; exchange rates had never been so confusing. Pia continued on, "You know what this is don't you? It's those fucking shitheads who perpetuate this idea that only military races can join the council. And it's disgraceful that the protests are being led by turians. Us!" She gripped my arm, something she always does when she wants to make sure I'm listening. "In fact, it's a shame that they are only getting a seat because they are bankrolling the current buildup since it still perpetuates the idea that military service…"

I really should have just kept my mouth shut. Not because I disagreed or didn't care for her opinion, but because we'd gone over this discussion so many times…

* * *

"We're here!" I said a little too enthusiastically as we reached the mining complex's front entrance, itself plastered all over with Gaian signs. No doubt they all said "Keep Out" or "Condemned" or "Private Property" or "No Trespassing". Those didn't apply to me because I couldn't read them. The only sign that I recognized was the giant IMM sign.

"Oh, already?" Pia asked, her voice hoarse from recounting all major political failures in the past 80 years. "I was just getting to the Keeper Neutrality Act…"

There was a heavy looking front gate, chained up every which way possible. I guess this was for the heavy wheeled vehicles, cargo haulers and the like. But even the Gaian cars could easily fly over the gate. Which we did.

Thank you flying cars.

Then we did what we do best, poke around and let our omni-tools find clues for us. Well, not really. Omni-tools were incredibly useful, but they couldn't do our jobs for us. Yet.

Turned out there wasn't much up here in the surface world; the nearby prefab offices were all empty and stripped bare of everything, only some forgotten slabs of concrete, shipping containers and a few dumpsters filled with random teardown sat out in the rain. Investigating the car turned out to be a real pain. I had thought to check the hood to see if the engine was still warm, but Anima power sources were pretty ubiquitous in Gaian space and those things could never really be turned off. So a car sitting in an abandoned forest for days would be just as warm as a car that just pulled up from a long drive. While I wanted to search the car, none of us wanted to risk setting off the car's alarm. Luckily we didn't have to deal with those security issues after Klein pointed something out to me; I followed his finger's gaze towards the ground. It wasn't raining that hard, just that near constant drizzle that came before and after the really big waterworks, so I could still see some footprints in the mud. At least a few humans and two salarians by the looks of things, all heading over to a mine shaft which was suspiciously well lit.

"The lights are still on," Det mumbled, "Which means someone's home."

Kid was right. "Everyone, get your gear on." I motioned over to Pia by our car, who started handing out the heavy ordnance we'd brought along. "We've fought Gaian nasties before; let's not make the same mistakes. Shoot until the corpse is shredded and then shoot some more. Shoot them in the head if you can." We'd gone in half-cocked on Samhain and didn't learn our lesson on Krampusnacht and Florilea was in the hospital for days. Not again. So I put up the money and bought my entire crew some nicer equipment. Swapped the armor plates on all our hardsuits for something better, boosted our shield capacities, networked the suits together so we could all keep tabs on each other. Integrated powered frames. Recoil stabilizers and better heat sinks for our guns. Inferno rounds. Rifle-to-Shotgun variable barrels. We looked more like mercs going into some of the conflict zones along the Terminus than honest detectives.

But the new equipment made us feel like badasses. And after the big morale hits we'd taken we all needed to feel like as badass as we could.

We were all gearing up when I turned to look at the Templar. He reached into his fancy suit and pulled out a silver gun, an old six-shooter. With a flick of his wrist the cylinder flung out, empty. Another flick and it was back where it belonged, the cylinder spinning in place.

Very cool.

"Wow, that's an antique," Det whistled, admiring the gun.

That's an understatement. Outside of some specialist equipment most firearms used ammunition blocks instead of bullets. And the one revolver I'd seen that did use bullets was much larger than that one, high-explosive rounds can't be scaled down that far yet, and had all the modern amenities. The Templar's gun looked like it had no electronics in it. It was probably just metal, screws and springs inside!

"When I was little," Klein began, twirling his gun, "I fell in love with the great Westerns."

What the hell are Westerns? "I see," I said, not actually seeing. "Here, take this," I handed him a spare headset, "It's meant for turian heads but I think it might fit you." He managed to fit the thing on his head with the aid of some tools he had in his suit. The high tech solution of clips and hair. A quick mic check later and we were good to go.

"Well, let's get to it," Pia interrupted, her gun lighting up and extending into combat configuration in her hands as she started walking towards the mine shaft.

Man. I scored big time. Look at those hips sway back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. That hardsuit was snug on her in exactly the best way possible. My powered armor clad beauty. What could I do butt follow?

We made our way over to the mineshaft as I drew my eyes away from that sweet piece of Pia and got my head in the game and readied my rifle. Det and Narg were keeping their heads and eyes preoccupied as they swept the area for any potential hostiles. The Templar looked most at ease out of all of us, but I could tell he was still on high alert. The rain started picking up along with some incredibly strong winds, made it hard to see or hear anything around us. Eventually we ended up at a huge tunnel that went down at a pretty steep angle, several huge streams of rain water rushing down into the darkness below. There were some stairs and guide wire along the left side of the shift, right next to a lift system that we all hoped was still operational, none of us wanted to take the stairs. Det pointed to a nearby portable power generated that had been hooked up a computer console, probably the one that controlled the lifts.

"They might notice us coming if we take the lift," Klein offered as he tested it with a foot. "Quiet enough, but if there is another console at the end of the tunnel they may see the lift in use."

"Either that or we walk," Det countered, "We don't know how deep this mine is, we don't want to go into a potential firefight exhausted."

"Det's right," I said, amazed at myself for admitting something so terrifying, "Risky, but the lift is the fastest way to get down there. Everybody in the lift. Go. In." We went in, each of us taking cover behind the covered railings, Narg's massive body sticking out from behind cover no matter how hard he tried to hide himself.

My hand hovered over the giant red button that'd take us into that deep dark mine, no doubt filled with horrible monsters, fanatics and dead salarians. But also huge sums of cash.

I pressed the red button and we started our long trek down the shaft.

* * *

I've grown up around space travel. I live on a spaceship. I've been in deep space with only a meter of spaceship between me and the cold void. I'd have thought that going a measly 200 meters in the opposite direction, underground, would be no problem. One of the leading theories on our evolution puts as prehistoric cave dwellers, huddling together underground to shield ourselves from Trebia's radiation baths. I'm no biologist but I think we developed our famous silver luster because of all the thulium we ingested during our cave days.

But none of that real or imagined evolutionary history kept me from being a little terrified at all this. Being underground is scary. It's dark and cold down here. Poorly lit and so incredibly silent. I felt like my breathing was thundering in my ears; I almost wished that the lift was a traditional horror movie lift with metal groans and squeaks and occasional stutters. If only because then we'd be hearing something. You don't know how much you'll miss sound until it's gone. Shit, I really wished Pia would start her political rants again.

"Everyone alright?" I asked, breaking this weird silent spell that had fallen over all of us. Surprisingly Narg jumped a little. That made me smirk.

"Tired of hiding here," Pia answered, voicing the other problem we were encountering. "How much further is this? We've passed three stops already." She groaned as she started rolling her shoulders.

"Only one more level to go," the Templar whispered, his voice much lower than the rest of ours. We could all talk as loudly as we wanted in our awesome helmets. So long as we weren't on broadcast mode no one could hear us. Not him, he had to whisper into his communicator.

"They're down here," Det groaned, turning around and sitting down. I would reprimand him for relaxing in an unsecured area but I wanted to sit down too. How long had I been crouching here? "We didn't see any lights on the last three floors. Makes sense too, if you wanna hide why not hide at the very bottom of the cave?"

"Mine."

"What?" Det asked our krogan philosopher.

"Caves are natural, mines are artificial."

"So? Who cares?"

"We are detectives, young Det," there he goes again, acting like the wise grandfather, "We hunt the truth. We must describe the reality as best we can, else-"

I tuned them out and instead thought about this lift ride. I know as much about mining as Det knows about women, but I think the shaft spiraled around the main mineral deposit. That's probably why this lift was so slow. Or maybe it was because the generators didn't supply enough power for full speed.

I glanced back over the edge of our metal basket and saw a dim light below us.

"-always already mediated," Narg went on, "And therefore-"

"Quiet," I ordered, "End of the line."

That snapped them out of it. I snatched my crew back from the jaws of boredom, all of them immediately taking firing positions as best as we could.

"I don't like this," Pia whispered as we approached the final level of the mine. "There's no cover in here."

"We'll have to hug the walls," I answered. "We can take some punishment out on our new shields if we have to. Worst comes to worst, we'll just shoot faster and aim better than any hostiles we meet here."

"Kill them before they kill us." Det clarified as the lift stopped, all of us immediately fanning out and taking up positions along the sides of the tunnel, dust and rocks beneath our feet.

"There's another generator over to our left powering a few lights down a tunnel, everyone see it?" Quick glances, then nods. "We head that way. Make sure you've got your auto-navs on. Alright, ready?" We all looked ready. I felt ready. "G-."

"Wait," Pia interrupted. "Lower muzzle velocity? We don't want to start a cave in."

Fuck. I heard Narg groan and saw the Templar frown.

"I don't think that'll happen," Det didn't sound so sure.

"You want to test that? "I pointed up at the ceiling. "See all that metal shit up there? Support rods. We mess up enough of those and we're all fucked. So, can you all guarantee that none of your bullets will hit the ceiling?" No one answered, Det's eyes widening as he considered my words. "Thought so," I added, already turning my gun over and fiddling with the settings. "Lower muzzle velocity. Our Inferno rounds are already deadly enough; we don't need hypervelocity bullets in here. Alright, ready?" Nods all around. Except Det. "Kid, calm down alright? You're not the best shot around, but you're good. You worried about your aim? Then aim better. We need your fringe on straight if we get into shit, you clear?"

He sighed and calmed down.

"Alright, let's move."

* * *

We advanced slowly and cautiously. These mines were a nightmare from a tactical standpoint. As far as I could tell they mined this place out in a grid pattern and that meant that every 20 or so meters we'd reach another four-way crossing. Perfect ambush spots everywhere. Honestly I felt naked without sweet Florilea on overwatch with her marvelous sniper rifle. Beside Pia she was the only other woman I trusted. I hoped she was doing fine. The Templar decided to take point this time, a job that usually fell on Narg. But if he wanted to put himself between my crew and danger I'd let him.

We followed the power cables deeper into the mine, guide lights here and there illuminating our way. The path started simple enough, just straight forward but then started going in odd twists and turns. At some points we had to turn on our helmets own night visions or magnification settings to find the next path of lights. Presumably the Institute goons who were hiding down here had some map that led them straight to… wherever they were. We had to guess. We would have gotten turned around several times if it weren't for our auto-nav systems making a quick and dirty map of our surroundings as we went. Money well spent.

Advance. Check corners.

Repeat.

Advance. Check corners.

Nerve wracking.

The motion tracker in my helmet wasn't picking anything up except our own assholes, so if anyone down here heard us they weren't showing it. Hopefully they were all intimidated by the sight of several armored and armed individuals and were just hiding somewhere and would eagerly surrender once they were caught by us.

I could only hope.

Eventually my motion tracker did pick up something just as Narg's voice filled our helmets.

"Dead ahead, 100 meters."

We all immediately took a knee, making ourselves as small as possible. We'd been sticking to the unlit sides of the mine tunnels and making as little noise as possible so I don't think we'd been seen. I brought my rifle up, scope extending and integrating with my HUD. There were two of them walking deeper into the mine at a leisurely pace. We haven't been spotted yet.

We advanced, keeping low and to the ground, sticking to the shadows and taking cover at the intersections whenever we could in case these two, a patrol maybe?, turned around and headed back our way. We started picking up on their conversation, though they were still too far to understand clearly.

"-out of here soon-"

"Well, it's not happening until-"

Advance. Check corners. Stay low and hidden. We were closer, but most of their conversation was whispered among themselves. They only occasionally raised their voices.

"-us out of here until he's got someone to overlook all our cargo. This isn't like-"

"They getting restless-"

"- planning this one for years. You can wait a few more days!" one of the humans hissed, the conversation finished between the two as they kept walking. We'd caught up to them, only trailing them by about 20 meters or so. They neared a third human who was asleep at a chair, a small table set up next to him, a rifle and drink within easy reach. "Look at this, wake this fuck-" the taller one began.

"Let him sleep." The other began, "We've been down here weeks, no one is going to come looking." The angry one hesitated before stomping off, both of them disappearing around a corner. I glanced over to my left, the tunnel not splitting into a four way crossing like the rest of them did. I'm guessing we were at the edge of the mining grid here.

We advanced, staying as far as we could from the guard. Except Pia. She went straight for him and gave him some sleeping pills, courtesy of Dr. Bluntforcetrauma. Quick and quiet. Meanwhile I was in position at the edge of the tunnel. Turning on my helmet cam and broadcasting to my team, I peeked around the corner. There were the two humans we'd followed here. They'd set up a small camp at the end of this tunnel; sleeping tents, cots, a portable stove. I wondered if they also snuck toilets down here. This path didn't branch off to the right or left and I could still see some rubble near the end of the tunnel, maybe this was the last part of the mine built? Either way they were trapped in there, the only way out was through us. We had them surrounded, which was good. Unfortunately I also saw two salarians huddled together at the far end of the tunnel and a sleeping asari next to them on a makeshift cot. Potential hostages? That was bad. At least one of the humans was armed with a pistol on his hip, and there were guns within easy reach of the other. If a firefight broke out in here we might hit the hostages. This was horrible.

What was worse was the crazy looking monster thing that was standing guard near the hostages. It looked like… well, I didn't' want to think about what it looked like. But it looked pretty dangerous.

"Flash and storm?" Pia suggested, Det and I already readying our dazzling presents.

"I'll excise the familiar," the Templar stated. Nods all around. I glanced at Det, primed flashbang in his hand.

One.

Two.

Three!

Det's aim must be worse than I remember because I distinctly heard one of the humans cry out in pain and surprise as the flashbang knocked him on the head. Then it went off. That was my cue. I rushed in and within seconds it was over. It all happened so fast. 90% training and skill, 100% luck. One second there was two stumbling humans and a charging monstrosity, the next there were two cuffed criminals and one monster salsa seasoned with bullets and marinated in gore. The Templar walked up to it, his feet making terrible noises as he started trampling all over its organs. "Clear."

I started heading over towards the salarians and the asari who had woken up during the gunfight. They were outside the range of the flashbangs so they weren't too shaken up. One of them was probably starting right in our direction when it happened though, the way he… she? was holding her eyes. The asari looked incredibly startled, which was understandable. She was sleeping and suddenly she's woken up by the sounds of gunfire and she's fucking reaching for a gun!

It suddenly flies out of her hand as I hear the Templar's revolver go off again. The shock gives me enough time to raise my rifle at them just as the salarian reaches for something in his pocket.

"Drop it! On the ground now! We're detectives here to rescue you!" I yell at them. Telling someone you're here to help them at the same time as you point guns at their faces and tell them to lay down is probably counterintuitive, but I lost all patience when they tried pulling guns on me. Pia and Det rush past me and knock their pistols out of the way before cuffing them too. Frankly, I wasn't sure it was legal to do so but I wasn't about to stop them.

Once they were disarmed and surrounded by heavily armed officers they complied.

"My eyes, they hurt!" The salarian female began as Det checked her over. "Damn."

"Fuck you," The asari spat, a tempting offer if she wasn't covered in dirt and grime. She reeked. "Show us your badges if you are detectives."

Sigh. I really hate uncooperative victims. We trek all this way to rescue them and this is the thanks we get? Whatever, if it'll get her to relax I'll do it. "Here," I said, my omni-tool lighting up and displaying my credentials. Oh shit. They expire next month. "See? Tier Seven Citizen Detectives certified by the TEC. All of us are." Well, not really. Narg was technically a "deputized affiliate" and I was the only Tier Seven citizen among my turian party. Pia and Flori were Tier Six and Det was Tier Five. But those were boring technicalities that only ever interested me during random moments like this one. "So shut up and get rescued."

The asari relaxed after that but the salarians got all fidgety.

Odd.

I noticed Pia was about to release the asari, probably content that she wasn't going to cause more problems.

"No, cuff them." I ordered as I stood up from my crouch. "Standard procedure ma'am," I lied. Luckily both Det and Pia caught on fast and commiserated with her, apologizing but also saying it was standard procedure. I quickly switched to the internal comms channel and told them to keep an eye on our "hostages". It could just be firefight jitters but I wasn't about to trust them with free hands after what they tried pulling.

I noticed Narg looking over the creature's remains and he called me over. Does it smell horrible because it was dead or what this the natural flavor? Hey, what a minute! I knelt down alongside Narg, who pointed at one of the faces on the thing. "That looks like Bayora."

"That is Bayora." I said, my stomach turning.

"Found our guy?" Det called out from his place near the salarians. "He got monsterfied?"

He was a little too gleeful for my tastes; no one deserved this. Bayora's face looked like it was stretched out in a scream. I don't know if that was what he felt when he got turned into this or what he felt when we killed him. Made me sick. Det was probably just trying to keep his mind off things, trying to make light of the situation.

I sighed.

"Yeah, we found him." I answered back as I activated my omni-tool's facial scanner. A few minutes later and we confirmed that this was indeed Bayora's face. Narg and Pia ran their scanners for double and triple confirmation. We rechecked our helmet recording software and reviewed the battle; we were now in some weird legal limbo where we had to prove that this was Bayora and not just some other monster. Had to make sure we had enough legal ground to stand on to consider our mission complete. Det ended up removing Bayora's face from the thing and placing the entire disgusting skin mask into a specially sealed container. I don't know what freaked me out the most, that the thing just had faces stretched over its skin like that or that Det knew how to surgically remove faces. We recorded all of it to keep our bases covered.

Was secretly hoping that we'd end up rescuing Bayora. Sure, I hated his guts for nabbing that blue bombshell and bringing him in alive would pay substantially less than bringing him in dead... But still. I really wanted one successful mission on Lluvia. One with a relatively happy ending.

We all needed at least one good mission here.

Oh well.

The other human looked familiar too. Smith. Two for two. "We're done here, found Smith and found Bayora." I announced, ending the recording on my helmet. We had enough evidence. "Templar, what about you?"

He'd been searching the camp while we did our thing, occasionally looking over the hostages and prisoners when we couldn't. He was looking over some datapads and equipment they had smuggled down here. Looks like his investigation was far from over.

"That's wonderful news," he cheered, a smile on his face. "Unfortunately, what I found here is troubling. The Institute was kidnapping Dr. Iessara for her medical expertise. Same with the brother and sister duo over there, Zenall and Asoln Furan. All lab techs at LlMRC."

"Sounds like you've still got lots to do then, huh?" Det added, stating the obvious.

"Such is the life of a Templar. Evil never sleeps because we give it nightmares. I'm sending a report to the local enforcement agency now. Requesting they send some officers to help transport all of this." He muttered as he activated his Codex. Could he get a signal down here? He glanced around at the two humans and hostages, "I was wondering-"

"You need some help with all this?" I finished, gesturing around the tunnel.

"Please and thank you."

* * *

We ended up making our way back to the lift after some wrangling. Klein found a luggage bag that he stuffed all of his evidence into and we scrounged around for some rope and straps to restrain the Institute goons and Smith. Narg, the big religious lizard, ended up dragging the three behind him, the three of them sedated with some concoction Klein poured out of a flask. He didn't even seem bothered by their extra weight; made it seem effortless. "I hardly notice them," he said, though I could tell he was slightly slower. He was getting up there in his old age.

"You alright miss?"

Oh, that was Det trying to put the charms on the asari. Probably hoping for a gratitude lay.

"Doctor." The asari replied coolly. "I'm fine."

I caught sight of Pia rolling her eyes; she smiled as she caught me looking at her. She always found great humor in seeing Det try and inevitably fail to get a date. What a savage woman. Not me. I had more sympathy and respect for the kid. Sympathy because I remember how hard it was at that age. Respect because he kept trying.

The lift suddenly stalled. The lights went out.

We all cursed and groaned, the asari and salarians gasped and whailed. Of course it was too easy. We'd only been here a day, did we actually think we were going to get rich off of a day's work? No. Lluvia was going to make us work for it. We all activated our helmet night vision mode, readied our weapons and took up positions on the lift.

We could hear the sounds of something screaming and shouting from somewhere way above us. The entrance.

I sighed, drawing my crew's attention to me. They probably wanted a rousing speech about impossible odds and heroism. Shame on them, they know I don't do that.

"All that's standing between us and a luscious busty bombshell widow with heaving piles of cash are mobs of terrifying nightmare monsters and fanatic whack jobs that want us dead."

I glanced to my left, Narg was the very representation of the religious warriors he hoped to revive and Det was Det. I glanced to my right, Klein standing impeccable with his six-shooter and Pia beautiful and amazing and dangerous.

I'm not even sure they were listening to me. That was fine. We were all thinking the same thing.

"Joke's on them because we're poor and horny."


	20. Investigation 4

I saw them first.

Weird tumorous vorcha-varren with extra or missing limbs ran or hopped or flew or crawled at us, mouth-claws snapping and barking at us.

I saw them first, but Pia got the first kill. Bullet through the head, the decapitated corpse started tumbling down the tunnel, the rest of the swarm jumping around it as they continued their charge. That's when the rest of us started firing; the varren-things were melted and shredded under the onslaught of incendiary rounds. But a few of them still made it to us.

Something lunged at me. It must have misjudged the distance or been thrown off by something because its lower body crashed against the lift's railings. I would have capitalized on that mistake if I hadn't been caught off guard. That normally doesn't happen but these were special circumstances. See, I wasn't expecting its mouth to open up and a human hand to reach out and grab my neck!

"Fuck!" I cursed as it tried to drag me closer to its jaws. Damn it was strong! Beautiful Pia came to my rescue with her variable gun, blasting the thing in two with her razor fire shotgun. I couldn't get the damn thing's hand off of my neck fast enough and tossed the now smoldering pieces back off of the lift.

We heard more things further up the shaft.

I turned to look at my crew. None of us looked hurt or injured. Narg had just finished snapping something's neck against the railing before casually throwing the thing away, a loud wet smack reverberating throughout the tunnel as it crashed against the tunnel walls. Why couldn't he have been the one to get the arm-mouth monster? Everyone else looked fine. Det. Pia. Klein. All cool and unharmed, if a bit splattered with blood.

Our rescuees, on the other hand, were pretty terrified. Dr. Iessara was pretty freaked out but at least she seemed to be keeping herself under control. The Furan siblings, on the other hand, weren't taking this all in stride. I'd like to take a moment to calm them down, after all they were just innocent people kidnapped by a crazy cult, but we didn't really have the time for a group therapy session.

"Well, I didn't need to sleep tonight," Det sighed. "What are those things?"

"Dogs," Klein answered. "Or they used to be before the Institute." One of the things was twitching and spamming nearby before he shot it. "Man's best friend does not deserve this."

"We need to move," I said as I heard the sound of distant shrieks. We had two options; either advance up to the second floor and take up a position there or go back to the bottom floor. Advancing runs the risk of getting us caught on this upward slope before we made it to floor three, but we at least get closer to getting the fuck out of here. Going back down is easy and we'll have more time to dig in. But it's also all the way at the bottom of the gate away from sweet escape. In either situation we put the asari and the siblings at risk.

Enough thinking.

I hopped over the lift's railing. "We need to get to the third floor landing before they reach us."

Pia and Det jumped over the railing and took positions beside me while Narg trudged over the railing, dragging the three hostages behind him. Klein moved along behind him while the asari and siblings trailed at a safe distance.

My calves burned as fought an uphill battle with the tunnel's gradual ascent, but luckily we didn't meet any nasties as we made our way to the third floor. Maybe the rest of the Institute backed off after they heard us unload fire on the dogs? Possible. But I was also hoping that the Institute were morons who'd charge into our guns now rather than later. Cautious enemies were always more dangerous that reckless ones.

That or they still had more monsters and were just waiting for us at the exit. If so, we'd just get to them exhausted.

We could either advance and try making it to floor two or take a breather here.

My legs vote breather.

I pointed off to my right and we all moved to take up positions at the first and second tunnel intersections.

"Doctors," I began over the external speakers, "How are you doing?" They looked winded, I couldn't blame them. At least the asari was able to nod or gesture that she was fine.

I felt a little safer behind Narg and Klein this time, but couldn't help but notice that Narg's tied up prisoners would soon be a problem. Speaking of which, I switched over to our private channels.

"Klein, how long will that knockout stuff work? Can we stash those prisoners somewhere?"

I saw Klein look over at the tied up prisoners. "They should be unconscious for at least four hours, and we can lea-"

We all sunk back into cover when a monster ran past the tunnel entrance, missing us completely. Then came more in all shapes and sizes ranging from more of those dog-arm things to turian-like shapes. At the end of the herd was a gigantic beast of a man; a mountain of muscles that were bursting out of their skin. Like Bayora down on floor four, this one looked like a mix of different creatures all fused together. Flailing arms and limbs and faces were stretched out all over the thing, and one arm was made up entirely of several arms twisted together. In a perfect world they would have rushed right past us, heading down to the bottom floor while we snuck out behind them. We'd have avoided having to fight that thing and its herd of cancer-beasts entirely.

And in a perfect world Pia would have two twin sisters who were all madly in love with me, passing me around like a piece of meat between them.

The brute turned and looked straight as us before charging out position, the tunnel shaking as it moved.

I think I gave the order to fire, but I couldn't hear it over the sound of the shrieks of terror from our asari and salarian tagalongs or the collective roar of the mob of monsters that was makings its way back to us.

"I'll take the brute!" Klein yelled into our ears through his comm device. He fires six rounds into the beast, drawing its attention. Klein's gun didn't seem to slow it down at all, instead of the beast was only enraged and slammed into Klein, pikcing him off his feet and crashing into a tunnel wall. The thing was moving as fast as a car; I've have bet every credit I own that Klein should have died when they collided with the wall, but I could still barely see him firing his gun into the creature's belly. They disappeared further into the tunnel, flashes of light occasionally illuminating them as they tried their best to kill each other.

All he had to do was kill one giant monster. I had to kill lots of smaller-but-still-dangerous monsters. I wonder if he'd switch jobs with me.

I looked over the civilians and pointed further into the tunnels, "Go, run! We'll get you afterwards!" Best case scenario; they escape or get killed by monsters. Worst case scenario; they are captured and turned into monsters. The siblings were already skittish and didn't need to be told twice, grabbing hold of each other and running off into the darkness. Dr. Iessara hesitated for a second. Had she fallen in love with me already? Typical. "Go!" I yelled, forcing her to get the message as I pushed her in the direction of the relative safety of the tunnel. I turned and got back to the killing; I fired nonstop, heads and limbs and faces bursting wherever my gun swept. Anything that wasn't killed by bullets ended up seared and roasted by the incendiary gel that clung to them. So many things died in . They reached Narg first, swarming over him as he disappeared from view as they swept out to reach us.

"Narg!" I heard Det yell from to my right before he switched over to his shotgun configuration and started advancing.

Kid's heart was in the right place, but his head wasn't.

I saw him get swarmed by the creatures.

Pia cursed beside me.

Then they were on us.

I really wish I had opted for some of the specialized CQC equipment.

I braced myself as one of the things collided with me, damn thing knocking the wind out of me faster than a pregnancy scare. I fell flat on my back as its face split open and clamped down around my head, an eye-filled tongue slithering around my visor and I felt more of them crash into us, something started pulling my legs and dragging me somewhere as I felt several other meaty hands attempt to club me to death; my armor was doing its best to protect me but there was really nothing one could do against blunt force trauma. I needed to do something and do it fast; I switched over to the shotgun configuration, my gun's barrel expanding in my grip. Despite the thrashing I was receiving I grinned. Something was about to get fucked.

I pressed the trigger.

Two things happened. The thing on top of me died, I could see all the eyes on the tongue do a coordinated death roll and the entire thing went limp on top of me. Also now I had a flaming monster corpse on top of me. That was bad. But also good because it meant I had a flaming corpse shield to fend off all my other attackers. I grit my teeth as burning gel and blood splashed all over the front of my armor and pushed hard, throwing the burning carcass off of me. Now I could see what was happening.

Enemies on my right, enemies on my left; one monster pulling on my legs and one was standing over me, foot raised to stomp on my face.

And I'm still on fire.

I raised my gun and blasted the monster about to smash my head in, the thing's torso disappearing in flames and gore as it collapsed backwards; more boiling blood over my visor. The thing to the left of me retains some human intelligence and it tries to knock my gun out of my hands. My shot goes wild but manages to clip the thing on my right send it sprawling over the ground one arm the lesser. I punch out with my left right into the kneecap of the thing, dropping it as the entire leg snaps backwards. I manage to prop myself up and level my gun at the thing trying to drag me away. Now it's a piece of abstract art on the mine wall. The things to either side of me are still alive and I solve that by bringing the butt of my gun down on a head, crunching the skull and brain beneath the reinforced power assisted blow. The thing to my left, useless leg still crumbled beneath it in a painful position, punches me right in the head. More cracks on my expensive visor. I respond with a shotgun to the face.

I manage to stand up, the floor slick with monster guts that nearly make me lose my footing. I also take this quick chance to spray the flame-retardant that came with our special order ammo; luckily the incendiary gel isn't rated against body armor so I'm mostly fine. Bits of my armor are scorched and slightly warped though.

I just barely manage to jump out of the way as Klein flies through the air; he looks absolutely calm, his gun steady as it thunders rounds into the giant monster man who comes roaring after him; I press myself against the wall as it tramples several monsters in its path clearing the way for me. I bring my gun up and track the beast, firing rounds at its back as he pounces on Klein. It thankfully isn't interested in acquainting me with its meat-club fists and instead focuses on thrashing Klein. Klein collides against the nearby wall at the end of his flight and is immediately set on by the giant, punches that shake the entire tunnel driving his body further and further into the wall. Klein was still shooting.

Well, fuck that.

I instead turned around surveyed the situation. Klein and the giant's rampage had crushed several creatures and painted the walls red. Det and Pia were closest to me, Narg the furthest away. And as much as I wanted to rescue my woman first, my duty as the leader meant that I had to rescue the most inexperienced of us first. That meant rescuing Det first.

Pia would understand. Fuck, she'd scold me for thinking she needed saving.

Switching back to rifle configuration, I wouldn't want to hit the kid with shotgun fire, I take out two of the creatures that were pummeling Det; to his credit the kid took advantage of the opening I'd made for him instantly, his free hand coming up as his wrist mounted thermal blade extended out from his wrist. He stabs it into the gut of some salarian-looking thing above him, gutting it from stomach to crotch. Good move kid. That crazy wrist-blade came in handy for once. I make my way over to him as several creatures break off from Narg's group and charge us.

"On your feet kid!" I shout, Det struggling to stand underneath all the intestines he had accidentally tangled himself with, he curses and instead draws his side arm and joins me in the killing. A second or two of automatic fire and the creatures that had run headfirst into our guns are joining their brothers and sisters as red gore carpeting. "You good, you injured?" I ask quickly, looking over at Pia, who has managed to get on her feet.

"I'm alright!" Det answers, finally standing up and ridding himself of all the entrails weighing him down. "I'll get Narg, you get Pia!"

I tap his shoulder as he charges to Narg's rescue.

Had Florilea been here she might have been impressed with his heroics. Doubt it though.

Pia wasn't in need of a rescue. She'd managed to knock most of the beasts off of her and was currently slicing throats and stabbing guts with her gun's bayonet. She was also using those fine legs of hers to kick in kneecaps. She loved breaking knees. I made myself useful and shot a few of the things that were running towards her but I think I only made her mad at me for ruining her perfectly timed spin kick. Women. I did have to shoot a few of the things she'd already kicked down though; her combat training might have been fine against normal opponents, but I think these monsters had a weird physiology. It was safer to just shoot them.

I felt the giant approach before I saw or heard him. Pia yelped as she jumped out of the way, Klein and the muscle beast tumbling through the tunnels before Klein landed on top of the thing. Huge bloody craters had been shot into the hulk's body, it was breathing rapidly and when it raised a hand to swat Klein away its movements were sluggish. Klein looked fine. He pointed his gun straight into the creature's face, the six-shooter's cylinder spinning rapidly as he unloaded several rounds straight through the skull of the beast. More bullets than the six-shooter could hold. At this close range he couldn't miss and the giant's brains joined all the other blood and guts on the floor. I glanced down at Pia who had jumped into my arms to avoid the two and smiled.

"I'm still angry that you took some of my kills."

I grinned before turning back to the tunnel entrance, Narg and Det standing over a pile of bodies. "Clear! Narg's alright!" I heard Det cheer through his communicator.

Well. We were all standing on a pile of dead monsters. I swear if Busty was here she'd fall in love with me; who could resist a dashing detective standing over the bodies of vanquished monsters? I wish I was alone because I was having trouble keeping my hands off of me.

"Where are our guests?" Klein said as he hopped off of the giant corpse, a splash of blood accompanying his landing. "The asari and salarians?"

Pia patted my chest before pushing herself out of our embrace. "I'll look for them," she announced before heading into the tunnels, her flashlight illuminating the way as she called out to them. I watched her go, happy that she was alright. My gaze dropped to that wonderful booty of hers before my eyes wandered over to the dead giant and all its dead little brothers and sisters. I couldn't help but notice that most of these things had claws, horns, or giant teeth of some kind. I looked down at myself and checked over my armor and overcoat. No cuts.

"Hey, was anyone cut or stabbed?" I asked as Det and Narg approached us. At my question they all checked themselves.

"Why, are they poisonous?" Det asked. "My suit's diagnostics don't report any breaches."

"Neither is mine," Narg answered as he started down at the gore-floor. "Odd."

"I suspect that the Institute wanted you alive," Klein answered. "Most of the… experiments we've encountered have severely diminished intelligence. We are not sure if this is intended or a side effect of the metamorphosis rituals. If the Institute wants the doctor and the two technicians alive…" He seemed to think about something for a second before speaking again. "These creatures are probably not intelligent enough to differentiate between 'aliens that you must kill' and 'aliens that you must capture'".

"Good," Narg grinned, "If these creatures are trying to capture us then they will not attack with lethal force."

That was a little reassuring. Someone who is trying to subdue an enemy is always at a disadvantage if the enemy is simply aiming to kill them. I looked around; all the dead monsters were a testament to that. Suddenly things didn't look so grim.

"Found our friends," Pia mentioned through our helmets. "A few scrapes and bumps but mostly alright."

Good. Things really were looking up. "Great, bring em back up here and we'll get Det to check them over. Back in formation guys, they might send a third wave at us."

They nodded, this time we took positions at a single intersection; being spread out like we were wasn't a great idea here, we didn't want to be swarmed and picked off one by one like last time. Some moaning caught my ear and I chuckled when I saw Narg's prisoners smeared in blood and guts. Eh. Narg was being severely hampered by that deadweight…

"Klein, could we do something about them?" I asked, pointing at the three tied up humans.

"Oh, of course." Klein answered happily. "Could you release them for me?"

Narg nodded before reaching down and releasing the magnetic hold we'd attached to the rope. "Now what?"

Klein responded by shooting the three unconscious prisoners dead.

I wasn't expecting that.

"What the hell Templar?" Pia demanded, marching up with Dr. Iessara and the Furan siblings in tow. Det, who had been standing guard, looked torn between looking at us and checking the tunnel entrance. Narg just stared at the three human corpses. "They were prisoners."

Klein held his hands up, gun aimed away from any of us. "I apologize for startling you." He turned to face Pia, meeting her glare without flinching. "They were prisoners, yes. But they were dead weight."

"So you killed them?" Pia challenged. "Just like that?"

"All prisoners taken by the Templar ultimately end on the chopping block. I expedited their execution, something that is within my legal power." He frowned as he stared at her. "The SPECTREs do the same. So does the Hierarchy."

I knew how Pia felt about battlefield executions. Especially how she felt about SPECTREs. "Pia, drop it. This is not the time or the place."

Pia scowled at Klein and I just knew she'd have words with him when we got out of this.

"Let's move," I ordered. "Now."

Narg and Klein took point again; Det glanced at us before advancing. I moved over to Pia and put a hand on her shoulder; she moved to fight it off but stopped herself. A second passed before she sighed, opening a private channel to my communicator. "It's just-"

"Bad memories?" I offered. I knew she was thinking about her parents. "Keep it together sweetie."

The asari and salarians walked past us, their eyes glued to all the gore around them. Dr. Iessara glanced at the executed humans before turning at us.

"You want these people as your allies?"

* * *

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off I realized how much we were in trouble.

We were 200 meters underground. The lift was out. We were walking uphill around a winding path back up to the surface. We'd been walking for nearly half an hour. This was all on top of the beating we'd taken back on the third floor and all the bruises that were no doubt forming beneath our armor. Also our rescued salarian lab technicians would not shut up. I understand that they are civilians we just rescued out of a hostage situation and from the grip of literal monsters. But spirits did they whine. At least the asari kept quiet. We hadn't heard the sound of an impending monster stampede, so our ascent was slow, tortuous and tedious. Normally a good thing but right now all it did was grant us a lot of time to think about the situation we were in. If there was anything I'd learned in the course of my life and this career it's that combat should be like awesome sex; you get in, you get out and you are done. You shouldn't be waiting around for something to happen.

I wondered what we were all thinking about. Pia was probably still seething, bad memories about her parent's deaths' conjured up in her head. Narg was probably composing religious war poems in his head again. I knew Det was thinking about asari ass, I caught him starting at the doctor enough times. Me? I was thinking about something that started bugging me recently.

It took two hours to drive out here and I'm positive we weren't followed. It took us about 20 minutes to head down to the final floor of the mine and that was with the use of the lift. The dog things reached us pretty soon after we'd left the fourth floor which meant that they had started running down the winding tunnel as we were securing the hostages on the fourth floor.

How'd they find us so fast?

"Wait," Narg whispered ahead of us, dropping down to one knee and bringing his rifle up. "Exit up ahead."

All our legs cheered in joy.

* * *

I didn't like what I saw.

No one.

See, if combat is supposed to be like sex then ideally you'd want someone else there with you. If you're hanging free and it's only you in the room something is wrong.

"Ambush." Det stated in a hushed whisper to the asari doctor beside him. Normally I'd quip something about stating the obvious, but in this case he prevented the asari and the salarians from running out into the open. I'll give him points for that at least.

There weren't many options here. We had to take the exit if we wanted to leave. So we told the rescued hostages to sit here in the relative safety of the tunnel and keep their heads down. Klein volunteered to go first, he was more likely to survive the initial attack and would draw their fire away from the entrance; hopefully this would give us a chance to advance out of the tunnel and take better firing positions elsewhere.

So basically, let the immortal get shot.

We all agreed, and wished Klein luck. He sprinted out of the tunnel and was immediately met by a hail of bullets from all sides. We waited a few more seconds as he returned fire with his revolver, all of us jumping slightly when a giant bolt of lightning arced past him.

"Go! Go! Go!"

I hugged the left side of the tunnel, Pia taking up a position behind me as we advanced near the exit. I could see the blue-streaks of mass effect tracer fire come from somewhere to our immediate right, enemies. I did glance around the tunnel entrance. Three barefaced turians, hired guns no doubt. I round the corner and take aim; one of them is lucky enough to notice that I've got them in my sights but not lucky enough to reach the nearby cover in time. I heard someone yell and then felt impacts against my kinetic barrier, forcing me to sprint to some nearby cover.

"Second story window!" Pia yells as she dives into cover beside me, wincing as pieces of concrete are chipped away by kinetic rounds. I flicked some settings before blindly firing over our cover, hoping I was at least aiming somewhere near him. Must have worked because bullets stopped whizzing by our ears; Pia had enough of a chance to stand up and start lacing into that second story window, the cheap flimsy prefab wall instantly falling apart under fire; I could see the turian being shredded apart.

By now we'd been noticed by most of the other gunmen, I could hear someone that wasn't us yelling out orders. Also more lightning. Someone was trading lightning and fire and blasts of ice with Klein. Right before my very eyes I saw Klein jump out of the of a giant razor wall of ice that sprung out of the ground. Good old Lluvia.

"Incoming!"

I looked up.

The Institute are cheaters. Filthy cheaters.

I saw three giant trailer trucks fly over the gates with a couple of barefaces hanging off of the sides, cackling madly as they sprayed the area with bullets.

Fuck. I doubt those trucks were for catering.

"Take out the engines!" I yelled, concentrating on one of the trucks' undersides. These weren't the element zero vehicles but I figure the Gaians built their cars like we did with all their vital components on the underside; I didn't know what I was aiming for, but I aimed at anything that looked important and glowy. Just like sex! My idiot blindfire eventually paid off as one of the trucks' undersides exploded in a giant golden bloom that sent the trailer spinning out of control; monsters flying out of the opened trailer and splattering all over the mining camp, a few of them landing in the middle of the turian gunmen that were also swarming all over the area. The things must be dumber than I imagined because they started attacking their own allies. The truck rocketed upwards at a near 90 degree angle before plummeting back down straight into the earth. I could see the trailer crumpled inward as it crushed its monster cargo before the entire thing went up in flames. Giant explosion. Awesome.

A shot that grazed my shields stopped my satisfied gawking. The other two trucks were still floating over us, then it happened; the back of the trailers opened up and out spilled more and more of the meat monsters. I grabbed Pia by the shoulder and hauled her out of the way as the creatures crash landed all around us; most of them died from the fall but eventually some of them started cushioning their falls on the corpses of their dead friends.

"Get to the building!" I yelled while pushing Pia towards a nearby pre-fab unit, more shots coming our way, most of them missing wildly or hitting the monsters around us. "Get the door!"

Pia's aim was amazing; she was able to shoot open the door while sprinting straight at it, smashing the door open with a shoulder tackle and was already taking up a position at the doorway when I ran through. I nearly slipped on the pieces of door that littered the floor. In fact I think I did. I lost my footing and slipped backwards, straight back into the doorframe with a loud smack on the back of my head. I winced and bit down a cry as I felt most of the blow on the back of my fringe.

"Things are looking bad here Boss!" Pia yelled over gunfire, the trailers disgorging more and more of the creatures, more and more of them surviving and charging our direction.

"Getting swarmed!" I heard Det shout over the comm.

I looked around the room, hoping to find something that could help up.

"Pia, up the stairs, now!" I ordered, "Det, Narg, get inside a building and go up the stairs. Put as much space between you and the zombies as you can!" Good plan. Didn't solve everything though, it only forced us higher up to building and most of these were only two or three story things. If we didn't get rid of the shooters pinging away at us they could just up the kick on their guns and shoot through the walls. Or toss some grenades at us. But at least it kept us from getting killed now. Some of the things crashed through the windows; that was my cue to get the fuck out of here. I met Pia at the stairs, her gun snapping every which way and killing the beasts that were at my heels and my legs cried at the thought of stairs. I took it like a man and pushed my sweetie up the stairs, occasionally firing backwards.

Something grabbed me the by ankle and pulled me backwards. Pia must have eyes on the back of her head because she instantly reacted, turning around and grabbing my outstretched hand while firing with the other. Whatever was holding on to me died as I lurched forward , both of us tumbling onto the second floor.

"Overheating!" Pia called out, pausing and fumbling in her coat for an emergency heatsink right as something halfway up the stairway and landed on her, it's efforts earning it a burning hot heatsink ejected straight to the face. I could hear the skin sizzle on contact. I hauled the thing off of her, pumped it full of incendiary bullets and tossed the flaming corpse down the stairwell knocking over several nightmare animals in the process. "My hero," she still had the sense to play with me.

"You can give me some rescue sex after we get out of here," I flirted back. Some people might be too tired after combat missions to have sex. Not me. Some people might not think that flirting with their girlfriend is the best thing to do in the middle of a life or death situation. Not me.

"You get us out of this and I'll blow you all day," Pia promised, taking a knee beside me and firing down into the stairwell.

I love this woman.

" _We can hear you_!" Det yelled over the comm. Narg laughed.

Things were perfect right now.

Me and my woman shooting down a stairway at a horde of zombie monsters in a perfect chokepoint.

Oral sex all day tomorrow.

Then Lluvia reminded me that things were not perfect.

The wall to our left exploded. Pia was knocked flat onto the ground; I only managed to stay upright because I was up against the right side wall. I kept firing while helping Pia up before bullets started crashing against our shields. Fuck, the giant hole in the wall left us wide open. It also gave me a look at the outside right now.

We were surrounded by monsters and gunmen. I could see Det exchanging gunfire with someone through a second story window, Narg's HUD silhouette standing a few meters away holding off the stairwell. I could see the golden bolts of Klein's revolver race across the mining camp. At least I didn't see any magic fireballs or icebolts being flung around, so I assume Klein killed whatever fucker was responsible for that. I caught sight of a few guys shooting at us and threw some incendiary rounds their way. I clipped one guy in the should and set his clothes on fire, and watched with some satisfaction as the guy and his buddy tried to put out the fire. You can't put out incendiary gel by patting it out; both guys caught on fire. Someone was still shooting at us though, probably from some angle I couldn't see from here. I looked back down the stairway, monsters still coming at us despite the storm of gunfire we were throwing right into their face.

They were getting closer.

My gun was overheating.

Shit.

I might not get to enjoy that day-long oral.


	21. Investigation 5

"Get higher up!" I yelled into our communicators as I punched something that was reaching for my woman; Pia returning the favor by overcharging her shotgun and releasing a giant molten slug that annihilated everything on the stairs.

"Go! Go! Go!"

We start making our way up to the third floor; I can hear Det and Narg trading comments to each other as they also start moving upwards. I catch a quick glance of them through a window on the third floor, Det waving at me as Narg fires into the stairwell.

"We can get up to the room from here." Det notes as he searches the room. "What about you two!?"

I turn and see another stairway, Pia already heading towards it. "We've got roof access!" Pia yells as she tackles the door open, nearly knocking it off its' hinges as she bursts out into the open air. I immediately hear gunfire and run up after her, bullets colliding against my kinetic barriers as soon as I set outside; looks like one of the trailers is still flying around, two barefaced bastards still firing out the back like the fucking rubes they no doubt are. I shoot them in the face.

"Pia," I yell as I shut the door behind me, "Seal off the door!" By my calculations we've got about ten seconds before the monsters make it up the stairs, notice no one is on the third floor and notice the stairs up here and…

Well, I am bad at math.

Turns out the monsters were already at the door. My powered armor keeps me on my feet as the door suddenly lurches forward, meaty claws pounding against it. Pia makes her way to my side as her omni-tool flares up with warning signs as the blow torch application boots up. "Hold it!" she yells as her helmet polarizes behind the eye-searing glare of the torch.

"I am holding it!" I curse back as I struggle to keep the door closed while Pia welds it shut. I manage to peek over Pia's shoulder and see Narg and Det having less luck than we are; Narg actually did rip the door of its' hinges and now the big lizard has to use the entire thing like a riot shield as he holds off the swarming beasts.

"Done!" Pia yells, both of us stepping back. We hear the beasts smashing against the door and wince every single time. "It'll hold." Pia whispers next to me. More banging. "Well, for a while at least."

"Alright, let's make it count," I add before dashing over to the edge of the building to survey the area. I confirmed that the ground was monsters. Shit. Alright. I run to another edge and take a look over, bullets landing around me as another group of turians see me. Double shit. We'd live if we jumped. At least, we'd live long enough to realize we broke both our legs before getting swarmed by those cancer vermin. Triple shit.

I turned and saw Pia looking at me. "Sorry Boss, no tongue for you tomorrow," she joked as she stuck out her tongue at me, her visor fogging up as she did so. She formed up next to me, her gun trained on the increasingly beat up door. "I'm disappointed I won't get to see you squirm when I try to kiss you afterwards."

"You two make me gag."

"Yeah well, you're just jealou-"

"Fuck!" Pia snapped beside me as the door starts giving way; half of it is twisted open, claws, hooves, pincers and teeth trying to squeeze through the opening before we put bullets in them and hear squeals of pain as they disappear behind the door, new appendages taking their place. The door won't last long now. "Boss, look!" I see Pia pointing up at a flying disc off in the distance, some sort of Gaian vehicle; whatever it is, it's coming in fast. As it gets closer I can see it's sleek and white, blaring sirens and flashing lights. It's the motherfucking police! Looks like Klein's reinforcements finally made it. I can only hope that the Gaian police is as over-militarized as our police forces are because fuck do we need some more firepower.

"Hey!" I wave and yell, "Hey!" I raise my hand up, omni-tool flashing my badge and identification at it. I can't fucking tell if they can see me in there or even hear me over the gunfire and monster screams. If there is anyone in there they must be asleep at the wheel because it does absolutely nothing. "Templar!" I yell and point over the building at the swarming mob below. "Templar Klein!"

That seems to do the trick.

A loud violent hum starts emanating from the flying disk before a golden beam lances out and blasts the entire doorway to pieces; I grab hold of Pia and cover her with my body as the blast hits us, wincing as I feel shards of debris bouncing off of my shields before they start pelting my armor itself. Over Pia's yell I overhear Det and Narg cheering; out of the corner of my eye I can see another beam reaching out and roasting monsters on Det and Narg's building and a third beam blasting the creatures below us. I drag Pia behind some rooftop machinery when I hear the sounds of gunfire.

"Boss!" Pia yells as we both spot a wicked looking piece of metal sticking out of my leg, "We have to-"

"I know," I hiss through my teeth. "Lower left coat pocket," I mutter as I hold my leg, Pia quickly taking my medical kit out of my coat. It's nothing as fancy as Det's professional grade medical supplies, but it'll do. Man. If only Det were here, he'd know how to do this painlessly and quickly. Instead we'll have to do it my way. "Alright, alright you ready?"

"Yes," Pia nods beside me. I glance down at her hands to make sure she's got everything we need. "You ready?"

Alright. Time to do this.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Ok _not the_ time to do this.

Pia puts an arm around my shoulder and bumps her helmet against mine. "Listen to me baby, listen to me. You need to pull this thing out ok? I'm right here, I've got your medicine. Come on, you can do this." I really can't say no to that face. She gives me a weak smile, one that turns genuine and beautiful as her face lights up. "I'll never ask you to pull out after this."

Why does everything have to be about sex with you Pia? Fine. If you want your crazy kinks fulfilled I am your man. Fuck! Shit. This is exactly why I love you. You say exactly what I want to hear. You always make it seem like it's my idea. Thankfully she was on top of things and started dressing my wound immediately after I pulled the vorcha-fucking metal shard out of my leg; the stupendous pain being dulled to a tremendous pain as she injected me with a medical concoction of happy juice before plugging my wound with that awful super coagulant and armor sealant. "There, you can stop whining now you big baby," she play mocked me.

"I don't hear any more gunshots," I switch the topic, not trusting myself not to bring up the time she cried for hours after stubbing her toe. The memory eases my pain a little.

Pia glances around before tentatively peeking her head over the air condition unit we'd hid behind. "That cop vehicle is mopping up. Do you believe it? That's a laser beam on a vehicle no bigger than a C-sec gunship, firing non-stop for several minutes!"

"So?" I asked, the pain and cocktail mix in my leg making it hard for me to think.

Pia is ever the nerdette, she starts blabbering on and on about energy generation, probable radiator designs and a whole bunch of other things that make no sense to me but make her glasses ride up on her adorable face as she goes on and on. The distraction helps me and I think it helps her too, let's us wind down from several near-death experiences. I hold up a hand asking her to stop, grabbing my rifle and testing my leg out as I try to right myself up. Hurts a lot, but I think the drugs are working their magic. "Det, Narg, you copy?"

"Yeah, we're here!" Det cheers from their rooftop, I can see Narg standing at the edge of the building and peering down at the death beams vaporizing swathes of monsters down below. I bet he must be drooling over the firepower displayed. "We made it out ok. No injuries, what about you two?"

"Boss got some shrapnel in his leg," Pia answered beside me, leveling her rifle and firing at any monsters that were missed by the beams, "But I took care of it but I'd appreciate it if you looked him over Det."

"Of course, of course," Det agreed, "What about our buddy the Templar?"

We all looked down at the masses below us, trying to find our guy. There! He was standing in the middle of a giant pool of blood and guts, his gun smoking in his hand. We couldn't reach him over the communicators but he caught sight of us once we started waving and yelling. He pointed at his ear.

"Headset must be busted," Pia sighed as she sank down at my feet. "I am done," she pulled on my coat, dragging me down with her. Overhead the saucer stopped firing.

"This is Officer Ibanez of the Lluvia Police Department," the saucer booms, "Responding to Templar Klein's request."

* * *

The battle didn't last long after that. Most of the turian gunmen were caught off-guard by the appearance of the police saucer and killed almost instantly. The monsters, dumb beasts that they were, didn't know to take cover or hide and ended up charging out into the open. So here I was, soaking in the smell of roasted monster flesh and trying to find somewhere to sit down or lean against that wasn't covered in blood and guts. We must have killed hundreds of them. Det was looking over the patchwork wound dressing that Pia administered and concluded that it was "passable", something he only dared to say on a private channel so Pia wouldn't hear him.

"You know," Klein said as he stood next to me, "Recent studies suggest that aliens take well to Anima recovery spells." I pointed at my sore leg, "I could take a look at that."

I looked over at something that looked like a turian with teeth growing around an eye.

"Yeah I'll pass on that, thanks."

I finally manage to find someplace to sit down as Pia and Narg announce that they've found the doctor and the two lab techs who scattered and hid during the battle. How lucky they are to have not been torn apart by all the monsters running around. Det, finding a chance to flex his medical muscle, watches as Klein regenerates a lost finger and heals some cuts and wounds. Det will always be a mystery to me; he's a certified medical responder and certified with TEC, by all rights he's a very eligible bachelor. But no women.

"Wow, look at those jugs."

Oh yes. That's why he's single.

Wow, look at those jugs. Officer Ibanez' police uniform is doing a terribly wonderful job of smuggling some heavy weapons. Now that I get a better look at her I realize that Officer Ibanez could give Mrs. Bayora a run for her money. I'd pay to see that. However unlike Blue Jugs, Ibanez Jugs isn't just runway model beautiful; she's got curves and wonderful feminine charms all stacked on top of a body that looks like she hits the gym harder than I do. Dangerously gorgeous.

And if Mrs. Bayora taught me anything it's that dangerously thick women are absolutely nothing but trouble.

"Officer Jessica Ibanez," she smiles at us before saluting, pilot helmet under her arm.

Templar Klein returns the salute after a split second; if I didn't know any better I'd say that he was also staring. Can't say I blame him. If two turians noticed her beauty, I can only imagine what crazy hormones are pumping through his human mind. If she notices our noticing she doesn't show it; I bet women like her are used to the stares.

"Usually it's the Templars that are coming to the rescue," she grins wonderfully before admiring the work of her ship's beam weapon. "I'm glad I get to subvert the cliché."

Det is about to open his mouth before I tap him on the shoulder and gesture him to shut it; this is Klein's show so he gets to flirt with the girl at the end. Also, it's a matter of practicality; Klein and Ibanez are both humans. Klein and Ibanez make some small talk while Det pouts and Narg and Pia emerge from the mine tunnel, the asari and salarian siblings in tow. I can already see the looks on their faces as their eyes take in all the seared stench and blood soaked mud.

"Dr. Iessara and Mr. and Ms. Furan." Ibanez noted as she followed my gaze.

"Yeah." I said dumbly, my mind suddenly going over the implications of t heir rescue. "Me and my team," I paused, realizing I hadn't introduced myself. I flashed my electronic badge, "Detective Casvius by the way, pleased to meet you," I shook her hand. Even though Pia was still a good ways away I could feel her gaze locked on our entwined hands. "As I was saying, me and my team was commissioned to discover the whereabouts of Dr. Bayora-"

"The missing salarian medical expert," Ibanez added, nodding. "I was assigned to his case for a while."

"Yeaaaah?" I was thrown of track by that. If the Gaian police forces were structured like Citadel ones then why would Ibanez be put on an investigation? Why send pilots to do grunt work? Evidently, she caught on to my confusion.

"We're stretched on manpower," she admitted. "I'm the only pilot on the force right now and it's hard for the Chief to justify keeping me around if I'm not earning my keep. I've been so backlogged with cases that I don't even know who I'm looking for most of the time," she sighed.

Huh? Well now I understand why Klein's superiors were frustrated with Lluvia's lack of progress. The planet was supposed to be a small mining colony that exploded in population after we made first contact with the Gaians, saving them from blundering into geth space. Plus Samhain and Krampusnacht probably tied up most of the other cops. Bayora's case was not particularly difficult to solve but if they sent a pilot to do a detective's work...

"Shit!"

I turned and saw Pia a bit of a ways away sobbing over the death of our car. I heard Det curse beside me, his omni-tool activating as he pulled up his car alarm, a horrible dead whining noise turning my head over to a shot up pile of scrap.

"My car!" he cried, running over to the only thing he had that impressed the ladies. Without a car he's truly hopeless.

I glanced over at the flying saucer. Klein turned on his most charming smile and turned to pretty Ibanez. "If I'm not mistaken, the VZ-9 Volantor gunship has a troop capacity of fifteen…"

Ibanez smirked, an action that no doubt would have made my heart skip if it wasn't already completely dedicated to my own nerdette and therefore caused no reaction within me. "Of course, climb aboard. We'll have the department clean up the area and tow your vehicles."

The asari and salarians immediately climbed up the ramp and into the shiny interior of the saucer. They are probably just as done with this mining camp as we are; can't imagine how long they'd been stuck down in that dark mine under armed guard.

I switched over to comms and told Det and Pia to get back here; my woman's face lighting up as she prepped herself to ride in a flying saucer machine. I could tell she was excited, her crazy smart nerdette brain no doubt conjuring up all sorts of questions to ask Ibanez about the thing like "What's the power output on this thing" or "Flight ceiling?" or "Stop talking to my man". Ok the last one isn't a question, but I can just tell that's rolling around somewhere in there. I had questions of my own. Like-

"Never would have imagined I'd be gunning down Institute scum in my own backyard."

-I wonder where the saucer shoots the beams from. I don't see anything that-wait what? I turned to look at Klein and Ibanez admiring the handiwork of her saucer's death beams. Klein caught my look.

"The Institute is turning out to be a persistent infection," Klein agreed. "You've encountered them before?"

"No," Ibanez answered.

"I never mentioned the Institute," Klein stated.

Ibanez went silent, her jaw clenched. "I read his report," she lied, "Before I was dispatched."

"How'd you recognize the hostages?" I asked, Klein's hand slowly inching towards his gun.

"The report," Ibanez stated. I couldn't see any guns on her but that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous. "Like I said, I read it in the report. What is this? I expected the Templars, not the Inquisition."

"You don't read the reports," I drawled. "You said it yourself, you're so backlogged with cases you don't even know who you're investigating."

Her eyes shifted from me to Klein.

I really wish she'd surrender quietly.

Instead she suddenly threw a glowing green punch at Klein, staggering him as jaw snapped in two, the sound of bone shattering making me cringe. I brought up my rifle and fired, most of my bullets somehow veering away from her. Most, but not all. One of them caught her in the leg, tripping her up and dropping her at Klein's feet; the man's face was snapping back into place as he readied his revolver; despite the point-blank range Klein's gun didn't manage to hit her at all, gold rounds impacting uselessly around Ibanez. This must be the work of an enemy spell! How else do you explain this shit? Ibanez suddenly glowed green and I could swear that she was suddenly in several different places at once before appearing right beside me. I was quick on my feet and managed to duck another green punch but not quick enough to dodge the kick to my injured leg. That bitch! I cursed in pain as I was dropped to the bloody mud beneath me. My dry-cleaning bill is going to be obscene.

My team finally noticed the sexy saucer pilot wasn't on our side and joined the fight, though whatever crazy shit was making everyone's aim equivalent to that of a drunk hanar was still in full force, bullets seemed to barely miss Ibanez' amazing body. A few bullets smashed against my shields before Ibanez reached down for my rifle and earned herself a powered armor punch to the face in return, she drew back in pain before a bullet grazed her throat, ripping out the entire front part of her neck.

An instant later and she was fine again.

I got a leg to the gut for my efforts, the blow sending me sliding across the bloody mud and knocking the wind out of me. Some people pay good money to be abused by beautiful women. Not me though.

"Narg, Det," I wheezed, "Block her access to the ship, if she gets on it and lifts off we're fucked."

"Got it!" Det responded, I could see the two of them scrambling to the front of the saucer, Det feeling around the ramp for any sort of button that might close the damn thing. I pulled myself to my feet as I heard Klein's revolver rain thunder down on Ibanez as he charged forward. Ibanez began running towards him, dancing around Klein's bullets as she met his charge with her own.

Then they collided.

It was amazing seeing them fight; Ibanez was a blur, glowing fists and legs tracing her attacks as she whirled around, mud and blood kicked up by her movements, I could hear the strength in her attacks as they displaced the around her. I could hear Klein's bones break whenever she connected a hit; ribs, legs, arms, knees, elbows, jaws, neck. They all snapped in two wherever she touched. Didn't seem to be slowing Klein down; his bones would snap back into place and I can imagine that he was regenerating his teeth each time Ibanez socked him in the mouth. His own punches equally vicious and more than once I saw Ibanez somehow reset herself after one of his punches snapped her leg in half. He wasn't all fists; his revolver blurred in his hands as he tried to line up shots, his gun occasionally firing. I honestly couldn't tell who was winning, neither of them seemed to be doing any permanent damage to each other.

Everyone's attention was drawn to Det, who cheered as he somehow managed to retract the ramp up to the saucer, the police vehicle completely sealed off.

"Shoot the bitch!" I ordered through our comms. Ibanez snapped her head over in my direction as she saw me bring up my rifle. Most of my bullets missed, my gun jerking unnaturally in my hand. Ibanez sneered at me before grappling Klein and dragging him into the line of fire; she expected me to hesitate. I didn't though. I kept shooting. See, I know Klein could survive being shot up.

Luckily my casual disregard for Klein's safety was enough of a distraction for Ibanez, who suddenly sound herself manhandled by Klein. He managed to get out of her grip and switch places with her before putting his revolver against her head.

Click.

No fucking way.

Ibanez screamed as a few bullets from Pia caught her in the side before she managed to flip Klein over her shoulder and slam him into the ground, she kept her hold on him and literally flung him towards Pia. I took my eyes off Ibanez for a second to trace Klein's flight, Pia dove out of the way as Klein punched a hole through an old shipping container. I turned back just in time to see Ibanez tackled by Narg's biotic charge. Very loud sickening crunch. This time I kept my eyes on the bitch as she was hurled through the air, she flickered and was suddenly on her feet again. It was as if she hadn't just been tackled by a heavily armored krogan moving at car chase speeds.

I did notice something in that quick moment before she started charging at Narg. I could see bruises forming along her face and her pilot's jumpsuit was torn in some areas, bloody wounds barely visible beneath them. Where she'd been shot in the throat I now saw a wound consistent with a bullet grazing her neck. I had a theory to test. My research tools; my gun and her shoulder. She yelled as her shoulder exploded before she flickered, her charge uninterrupted as she continued towards Narg. Her shoulder was fine, but now I could see a tear along her suit.

Theory proved! I'm so smart.

She wasn't actually avoiding injuries when she flickered and reset herself, she was just somehow making them less life threatening.

I have another theory!

"Det, Pia," I hissed into my helmet mic, "I think she can only deflect bullets if she knows where the attack is coming from, so-" Fuck, Narg was in trouble. I couldn't risk firing at Ibanez for fear of hitting Narg, so instead I did something stupid and charged. I'm not really sure what I was planning since Ibanez threw me over her shoulder like I was a baby. As I did my third flip through the air I did catch Narg landing a nasty headbutt against her and followed up with a few punches before knocking her back with a biotic push straight to her gut.

"Narg put a black hole on her ass!" I bellowed.

Narg roared as he went through the mnemonic motions, his hands raised before them as he slowly brought them together; Ibanez yelled as she suddenly found herself smack in the middle of massive gravitational forces, blood and mud and guts flying off of the ground and swirling around her as they were drawn into the titanic gravity well forming right in front of her face. I drew my gun and fired straight at her, Det running up alongside Narg with his own gun spitting bullets. Ibanez was shit out of luck now; where before she could deflect bullets away from her now the bullets were being drawn in towards her. She yelled, flickering and flashing green and resetting as more and more bullets found their mark. Didn't work this time, she was trapped by Narg's biotics and I could see the wounds adding up. Eventually she seemed to exhaust her magic, her green energies sputtering and dying out. Then I spied Pia setting up from a nearby second story window and fired.

Second theory proved.

Ibanez's body was shredded, an arm and a leg being blown off as her back was blown open. Then she flickered and reset. Except she still had several holes punched into her back, her hand was missing and her leg was hanging on by a few tendons and muscles.

Narg was finally exhausted as she was unceremoniously dropped to the ground, a shower of mud and gore raining own around her. She was still alive and breathing heavy but we knew it was over.

I noticed something behind her and saw Klein dragging himself along the mud, his body slowly knitting itself back together. He slowly got up on his feet before leveling his revolver at her. "Why go through all this trouble?" he asked.

Ibanez was damn defiant for someone on death's door. Or she was so near death that she was simply gathering up the strength to talk again. She slowly pointed towards me, Narg and Det. "Because of them. The aliens… so easy…" she trailed off and it quickly became apparent that she wasn't going to talk anytime soon.

So Klein put a bullet through her skull.

Then he looked up at us, an eye hanging by some nerves being drawn back into its socket. "This job's not done yet," he whispered, gesturing at the saucer before walking towards it and past us.

I am not in the mood for any more surprises. I motioned Pia to come follow us before trudging after Klein, gun at the ready while Det and Narg plodded over to the sides of the ramp. We waited a few seconds for Pia to form up before I ordered Det to open the saucer. Some shots rang out and he took a few hits to the shield before Pia managed to shot Dr. Iessara in the leg. The asari screamed and dropped to the floor as she clutched her leg. The male salarian, Zenall, fired off a few rounds at Narg before being punched in the gut. Asoln, the sister salarian with bandages around her eyes, didn't seem to know what was going on and started shrieking at the sounds of gunfire.

"Clear," Narg called from inside the saucer. Klein immediately went up the ramp and entered the saucer with Narg, presumably to restrain the hostages again while me and Pia proceeded to check the kid for injuries.

"You alright there?" Pia asked.

Det tried to play it suave and cool, an act that was immediately ruined when he yelped in pain as I examined the bullet wound along his side. "I'm fine boss lady. I think the bullet just grazed me. At worst it only pierced the fat on my side."

Credit where it's due; the kid knew his own body well. He was exactly right about the bullet piercing his side. Not a serious injury really, at best a few days of recovery and he'd be fine. I finished treating his wound before throwing my arm over Pia, leaning on her for support as my leg started throbbing in pain again. "Come on, let's see why the hostages we rescued just tried killing us."

* * *

I could tell that we were just about all done.

We were inside the saucer's passenger hold. The asari and salarians were tied up to their chairs on one side of the hold, everyone else was on the other. It was surprisingly comfortable and roomy in here; the cool air conditioning inside feeling amazing against my skin after hours inside my sweaty helmet. I felt bad for whoever the police department got to clean this thing out after we were done with it, all the crap we dragged in with us would be a bitch to get out. Klein had gone up to the pilot's seat and called ahead to the police department. Turns out that Officer Ibanez had immediately responded to Klein's request for retrieval and managed to convince a few of the other officers that any other backup wasn't needed. It sounded like an awkward conversation when Klein explained that he had killed her for being an Institute mole. Pretty soon the police chief got on the line and chewed Klein out. I overheard a lot of creative insults in those few seconds before he vowed to launch an investigation into the entire matter and send a complaint to Templar HQ.

Klein sighed as he climbed down the steps from the cockpit before laying his Codex on the central table before all of us.

"The Codex is recording, as is the saucer itself." He leveled a glare at the group across from us. "Talk now and we will show leniency in your sentencing."

I could feel Pia tense up beside me at the Templar's words.

None of them said a word. So we just played the waiting game; we'll let them crack. We didn't have to wait long. The salarians started talking.

Not to Klein though, to us.

"The Gaians have immortality technology!" he stated, eyes wild as Dr. Iessara demanded he shut up. "The Institute promised research data on the artificial Anima wells in return for our cooperation." He started at each of us in turn, the asari beside him scowling as he kept talking. "Don't you see? The Gaians can make us live forever but the Protectorate is keeping this a secret from all of us! We deserve that technology, we deserve longer lives! Not just salarians, but turians!" He locked eyes with me. "The galaxy deserves access to that technology."

I looked away.

I mean. I didn't disagree. If one part of the galaxy has technology that might extend people's lives or even make them immortal... Well, there was a moral argument to be made that it should be shared among everyone.

For his part Klein didn't seem inclined to humor Zenall's argument. "So the Institute promises access to Anima Wells in return for what?"

"Bodies," the female salarian whispers. "They wanted us to contact our government and cut a deal for bodies."

"Why?" I ask. "That makes no sense, the Citadel knows it's illegal to stea-"

"Ha!" the asari laughs. "Illegal. You're talking to two salarians, Detective. Remember that their species is famous for the genophage and espionage. I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't already contacted the Union and got them to agree!"

We turn and look back at the two salarians. They are dead silent.

"Oh fuck me," Det whispers.

"Is the Union crazy?" Pia demands.

"Don't be naïve," Dr. Iessara continues. "The Union isn't crazy. No investigation will ever reveal a link between these two cowards and any government official. I'm sure the turians you all killed outside will all conveniently happen to be random mercenaries with no government connections whatsoever."

Narg shifted in his seat. "What do the Republics have to gain here?"

"A thousand-year lifespan might seem like forever to turians or salarians, but you and I both know it isn't," the asari answered.

"Bayora?" I asked.

The salarian and the asari looked at each other. They must have figured there was no point in hiding anything. "He was interested in the Institute up until he discovered their plans. 'This is illegal' he said and threatened to go to the authorities."

So Bayora died trying to do the right thing? If only we could all be so lucky.

"Who was in charge of all this?"

They glanced at each other, their postures turning uncertain.

"We don't know," the salarian sister said. "That's the truth. I don't even think the people we met knew who was in charge."

We turned to look at Zenall and Iessara, who both repeated that answer. Klein seemed satisfied with that, he mentioned that most of the Institute operatives they've caught repeat a similar story. Their cells are kept in the dark about other operations and sometimes even work against each other without knowing who their allies are. He went on and questioned them a bit more before we all realized that they had nothing else.

Then Klein executed them in their seats.

* * *

Mrs. Bayora paid us in full. She also slipped me the keycode to the hotel room she was currently staying in when Pia wasn't looking. Of course, I didn't go. I love Pia. And even if I didn't I wouldn't have gone. That woman is rotten. She was happy her husband was dead, pleased that she'd finally be able to lay claim to his life's work and all the fortunes that entailed. Nothing good could come out of a woman like that. I'm sure that my dick would come out withered and dead if I went in there, corroded away by her acid blood. I didn't even give her keycode to Det; that kid didn't need to be involved with women like that.

I would have felt bad about keeping him from getting laid, but I didn't. If anything, I think he was enjoying the attention Florilea was paying him as she nursed him back to health. I know for a fact that the kid only needed a few days rest before he'd be back on his feet and it's been a week now.

Narg… Well, Narg wasn't exactly happy. We'd won a great battle, sure. But we hadn't rescued any innocent hostages; there hadn't been any innocent hostages. He was pretty upset for a few days before I reminded him that the god he worships would probably still be pleased with the huge body count we racked up. What god doesn't love it when his followers smite unholy abominations?

Pia made good on all her promises.

Klein paid us in full too. He disappeared shortly after the entire investigation was closed. I was pissed at him for ending the case the way he did. Pia was especially furious. I mean, I understood why he killed them; if they went to trial and talked… well, the Protectorate wasn't in any position to allege that the Republics, Union and the Hierarchy had made deals with a known terrorist organization to smuggle Protectorate technology. The Citadel groups couldn't afford the allegations either. Iessara was right, STG or SPECTREs could cover up the entire thing if they needed to, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the argument. If enough people heard about the Anima Wells and heard an impassioned plea that it was a moral obligation to share that technology with everyone… Well, more loons would try cutting a deal with the Institute. More soldiers for their nightmare army.

It was a tempting argument.

I was almost convinced myself if I hadn't seen the horrors with my own two eyes.

No, if the Protectorate was going to share their Anima Wells it'd be on their own time. Galactic civilization has gone on happily enough without magical immortality technology, and it will continue to do so.

So yeah, I know why Klein killed them.

Didn't meant I liked it.

* * *

Pia happily collapsed on top of me, sweaty and exhausted. I pulled at the covers as we both settled in for the night. She was cooing in my ear before she trailed kisses on my neck.

We laid in bed for an hour after that, talking about this or that. We were both terrible at post-sex cuddle talk; usually she's start mentioning upgrades to the _Detective Maiden_ or our equipment or her crazy-expensive personal computer or I'd start mentioning potential jobs we've got lined up. Sometimes we talked about the future. Our future.

We had the money now to retire. We could just live the rest of our lives aboard this ship or settle down somewhere. Start a family.

"That'd be nice…" Pia giggled. "Getting knocked up by my own boss. What will the neighbors think?" We laughed a bit, imagining that conversation with hypothetical future neighbors. "But…"

"But?" I continued. "But what?"

"We're all junkies," Pia whispered as she repositioned herself on top of me. "We're all addicted to this life. The cases. The danger. You want to end our careers with such a terrible case?"

"No," I admitted.

Pia smiled and my heart fluttered.

"Come on Boss, take your girl for another ride."

I've always been a sucker for beautiful women. They always ask me to do something dangerous and stupid. How could I resist?

Answer.

I don't.


	22. A Theory of Justice

"Good morning! How can… Miss Shaix? I thought you were on vacation?"

Nyxetka smiled at the secretary, who looked genuinely confused at seeing her come into work today. "I was, but when I heard the Ministry needed every available person for the recommendation teams I came straight back."

The secretary stared, "Weren't you on Kapia?"

"Yes," Nyxetka smiled as the nearby guard directed her to the nearby clearance scanner, "My best friend let me use her vacation home on Azure Beach."

The turian security guard glanced down at her body at that, but Nyxetka paid him no mind. The secretary scoffed. "You left the beach planet to come back to work?" She looked down at her desk as Nyxetka's ID was cleared before retrieving an ebadge from her desk. "Why put your life on hold for a dull legal job?" she asked, the guard beside her still staring.

Nyxetka took the ebadge and fastened it to her shirt, right over her heart. She beamed as her name appeared in glowing letters. Junior Associate Nyxetka Shaix. "Are you kidding me?" she smiled, "This is what I live for."

As soon as she passed through the security doors, Nyxetka knew she'd been right to return. Everywhere she looked she saw people rushing towards different rooms, lawyers and legal experts with armfuls of datapads and interns gingerly navigating orders of caffeine drinks through the hallways. She even dared to hope that her eyes weren't deceiving her, senior members working alongside junior associates! She picked up conversations here and there, the same topic on several alien tongues.

The Gaians.

"Hey Nyx!" someone called out to her. Turning, Nyxetka saw Zeleemna waving over to her by a doorway to one of the conference rooms, several other people crowding around her. "Back into the fray?"

"The Law never sleeps," Nyxetka cheered their university motto before hugging her old friend. "I haven't seen the Ministry this busy since we made Remote Contact with the heriig…"

"Ha!" someone next to Zeleemna laughed, a turian Nyxetka had seen around the offices a few times. "The slugs weren't nearly as problematic for galactic metalaw as the humans are. Worst they asked for was the legalization of artificial sex-determination in heriig children and semicide."

"What a week that was," Zeleemna breathed.

Nyxetka nodded along with them, remembering the terabytes of legal information she poured through over those seven days. She was on the team that drafted some of those laws. It was a controversial move at the time, but her collaboration with her team earned her some repute within the Ministry. More importantly, it allowed the heriig to maintain their cultural practices without fear of being called into court for crimes against life. Nyxetka thought it was a shame that the heriig didn't have much of a presence in Citadel space; they were a lively bunch and she found their religion fascinating.

"I hear you're working with Matriarch Iallior's team, I hear she's _amazing._ Have you read her book, _The Three Relativities of Personhood_? _"_

Nyxetkar grinned, reached into her briefcase and pulled out her favorite datapad. " _Temporal, Spatial and Sociocultural,_ " she recited the subtitle of Iallior's infamous work. "I reread it on ship ride back here, I can't believe I get to work with her. This is a dream come true."

The turian grumbled, "Hmmm, isn't that the book that argues that the rachni are persons, and that their extermination was a crime against galactic life? Sounds a little crazy to me."

"Hush you, get back inside and see if Tulpi found the legal code she was looking for, you know how she is with tort." The turian grumbled some rude remark before disappearing back into the room, leaving the two women alone at the doorway. "He only says that because it's easier for galactic society to swallow the idea that the rachni are dumb animals. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was trying to impress you."

"No worries," Nyxetka replied, "Compared to some of the criticism I've read on her work, calling it "a little crazy" is absolutely tame." She paused for a moment before her mind analyzed the last part of her comment. "Impress me?" she laughed, "By insulting the works of one of my idols? I might be a tame maiden, but I know enough to know that's not how you get a date."

Zeleemna grinned, the two making way as a group of turians made their way into the conference room. "What can I say? Some boys never grow up into men. By the way, that was my team leader, so I've got to get inside. Say hello to Lyni for me."

"Will do," Nyxteka said before giving the girl another hug, "You should come over sometime. You, me, Lyni. Fast food and terrible movies."

"Ah, the college classics!" Zeleemna laughed, "Maybe in a few years when this whole mess is resolved and we get some free-time. Now get to your office and get me an autograph!"

* * *

Conference room 169.

This was it.

Nyxteka steeled herself as she entered the room. First impressions were important, and she wanted to make a good first impression on the Matriarch. Checking her suit one last time, fixing any wrinkles and smelling her breath against her hand, she decided she was ready.

She stepped forward, the door automatically opening before her.

"Good morning," she cheered happily.

Only to greet the faces of her old co-workers.

"Nyx!" "Welcome back!" "Heeeey!" "Beach girl!"

Nyxteka turned just in time to see her best friend Lynithnea "Lyni" Sali run up to her, capturing her in a hug. "When did you get back? You should have called me, I would have picked you up at the spaceport."

"Fuck off," Imosley growled, the old green sour-face laying back in her chair, a cloth shielding her eyes from the lights. "I don't need your upbeat just-back-from-vacation-cheer so early in the day."

Nyxetka and Lynithnea rolled their eyes before Nyxetka grinned. "I guess you won't want to hear about the bottle of Kapian Wine I brought back-"

Imosely's biotics flared, lifting the cloth off her eyes, "Glad to have you back," she said, a forced smile on her face. "Where's the wine?"

"It's back at our place," Nyxetka beamed, the green woman scoffing and going back to sleep. "My flight came in an hour ago, I just stopped by the apartment to put away my luggage and get a bit of breakfast then came straight here."

"Aren't you tired?" Nyyru asked from her desk, a holographic screen displaying pages of legalese. "Kapia to the Citadel is no joke, isn't the last leg of the flight eighteen hours?"

"Nineteen," Nyxetka corrected, "and no, I'm not tired. How's it been working with Ma-"

"Good morning everyone."

Nyxetka's eyes went wide as she spun around and face to face with one of the top celebrities of the legal world.

The Honorable Matriarch Tev'ya Iallior.

She looked just as Nyxetka hoped she would; regal, wise, serene and beautiful. The very picture of the ideal matriarch. Just like the ancient goddess of law herself, Vaiais.

"You must be Nyxetka Shaix.," the Matriarch greeted before reaching out her hand in greeting. "I read your opinion on the Articles of Appropriate Semicidal Acts. Quite impressive."

"I like your book!" Nyxetka squeaked before composing herself to the stifled laughter of her coworkers. "Matriarch Iallior," she began, desperately attempting to fight down the blush on her cheeks, "I must say it is a honor to work with you, I've looked up to you ever since I read _On Galactic Naturalization_ as a little girl."

The Matriarch smiled, "I hear we have Miss Sali's family library to thank for that don't we? Please, let's all sit down."

Everyone scattered and took their places at the large ring-shaped table that dominated the room, the massive holographic projector at its center flickering to life. Nyxetka sat beside Lynithnea, who couldn't help but grin at her best friend's excitement. Next to the two asari women sat the holographic projection of a turian male.

"Oh, hello Nyx," Martius greeted through the directional speakers at his desk. "I didn't realize you'd be back today."

Nyxetka couldn't help but glance down at Martius' legs, or rather, the lack of legs. "I ended my vacation early for this, couldn't pass up this opportunity."

"Miss Shaix," the Matriarch interrupted, "Did you receive the data packet that Miss Sali sent you?" Nyxetka nodded, holding up her datapad in the process. "Good, I trust that you've read through all of it?" Another nod, more eager this time. "Wonderful. Aside from our current assignment, how much do you know about this the current state of Citadel-Protectorate metalaw?"

Here Nyxetka floundered, not eager to admit that she didn't know something in front of her idol. "Not much," she admitted, "except generalities. The FC Handshake was taking much longer than usual, so the Ministry put us all on standby. That's I went and took my vacation time…"

"That's entirely fine, don't feel bad about taking some time to yourself. Sometimes I wish I could go away for a few years of fun and relaxation." Chuckles and grins all around. "I'll remind us with what we are contending with; we are facing a First Contact situation that is completely and utterly without precedent."

The Matriarch pressed a button at her desk, flooding the dimmed room with light as the massive holo-projector at the center began listing information.

"Firstly, the Protectorate uses a technological base that is entirely unlike our own. Element Zero and the mass effect technologies which we take for granted are completely unknown to the Protectorate; instead they rely on an energy source that is as equally mysterious to us, Anima." The screen flickered to a brief display of all known information on Anima collected by the Citadel Library. Surprisingly, the screen was rather bare – the workings of that particular energy source leaving the top scientists in Citadel space scratching their heads. "Miss Shaix," the Matriarch turned to lock eyes with her, "What is one legal problem that already presents itself?"

Nyxetka's palms began to sweet, she wasn't expecting a pop quiz right off the bat like that! Luckily, she knew how to answer. "The Citadel Council Charter, Chapter 1 Article 5, establishes an expectation of "good faith" with regards to "the infrastructure necessary for galactic civilization", the Mass Relays." Nyxetka grew more sure of herself as the Matriarch motioned for her to continue. "The Citadel Council Charter stipulates this as one of the founding principles of galactic society. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem; ff the Protectorate were a mass effect society like everyone else they'd be glad to open and maintain the gateways of galactic civilization and reap the benefits of economic and cultural trade. But the Protectorate does not use the Mass Relays and perhaps never will. It is entirely likely that the Protectorate could deem the maintenance and monitoring of Mass Relays solely for the benefit of others to be a wasteful endeavor at best or at worst conflict with their own government charter, making it illegal to do so. If any of this is true, then the Protectorate could be said to be acting in "bad faith". This isn't illegal, but certainly won't endear the Protectorate to any of its galactic neighbors, especially since it effectively locks some areas of space that were being prospected for colonization rights." Nyxetka let out a breath she didn't she know she was holding before she continued. "The Hegemony is already raising this issue in the galactic courts."

The Matriarch applauded, a great smile on her face. "A great answer, Miss Shaix. That is indeed one of the legal ramifications our two technologically distinct societies coming into contact. Already we begin to see the enormity of our task. Let's continue."

"Anima also presents a second problem, not only does it form the technological basis for the Protectorate's society, but it also grants most Gaians access to magical abilities." The main display changed to video shot inside some sort of testing facility; Nyxetka could see asari and turian researchers working alongside human test subjects as they launched fireballs and lighting from their fingers or teleported themselves across short distances. "How do we treat these abilities?" the Matriarch asked, "Do we use the Biotic Rights Act as a basis for a hypothetical Anima Rights Act? While it may seem convenient to equate biotics with Anima, keep in mind that Anima also allows for mind-reading, telepresence and limited forms of precognition, both of which could be used for unparalleled violations of privacy; not to mention could wreak havoc with economic markets." The Matriarch looked around the room, locking eyes with everyone in turn. "Do we then restrict magical abilities, liken them to firearms and other prohibited substances or objects? Doing so may make us feel safe, but how would we enforce these prohibitions? Not to mention, how would we do so without violating the Citadel Council Charter, Chapter 1 Article 1?"

Another button was pressed and the holo-projector was filled with images of the myriad races of the Protectorate.

"The third issue is that the Protectorate is not comprised of a single species. First Contact with the Protectorate also meant First Contact with humanity – the face of the Protectorate, the blajini, fauns, jinn, padurii, sasquatch, spectres, vampires, demonkind, werewolves, fairies and spirits. Many of these are not single species either. For example, demonkind and spirit-kind is an umbrella term for a whole host of species. The Protectorate contends that their home-world itself is a living being, Gaia and that she communicates to the Protectorate through the messenger race known as the Buzzing. These last two add another wrinkle; Gaia and the Buzzing are not members of the Protectorate, rather they are separate entities that oversee the Protectorate." A few eyebrows went around the room, Nyxetka realizing this was the first time everyone else was hearing about this too. "But that is another division's problem," the Matriarch continued, waving away any questions on that topic.

"I'd like to remind you all," the Matriarch went on in a much calmer voice, "That these issues are galactic in scope. I don't expect them to be resolved by one team working in one conference room, only weeks after the Ministry began official work. No, it is more likely that these are conundrums that will stay with us for years, perhaps decades." The Matriarch paused and fiddled with a very crude piece of jewelry around her neck, one that seemed out of place with the rest of her immaculate outfit. "So please, do not be so hard on yourselves. Do not mistake calm, deliberate action with failure, do not mistake expediency for success."

Nyxetka turned to Lynithnea, a goofy grin on her face as her idol's words bumped her excitement to near uncontrollable levels. A couple of her coworkers also seemed moved by the Matriarch's words. Even Imosley, herself a closet fan of the woman, looked less irritated at the world than she usually did.

"Now, I ask us to officially begin Day Three of Group 16-D of the Ministry of Metalaw's Citadel-Protectorate Committee, sub-committee on Human Affairs. Our job is to provide our considered opinion to the committee heads who, in turn, will take our proposals to the Protectorate in the hopes of establishing legislation which will treat both our societies with respect and tolerance."

Nyxetka took a deep breath before she began opening all the relevant files at her desk. Legal precedents from over three thousand years of Citadel history, as well as her own notes compiled throughout university and her own time at the Ministry. She saw others do the same.

"Legally, are humans persons?"

* * *

"Martius brings up an interesting point," Nyyru continued, nodding in the hologram's direction. "I think an argument could be made that the humans _became_ legal persons when the Council met with the crew of the GPS _Sampson_." Nyyru pressed a few buttons at her desk, projecting several files up for view. "If you look at CCC 722a-"

"I see where you're going," Imosley interrupted, "but it's a _very_ flimsy argument to make. It smacks of _supreme arrogance_ to suggest that simply speaking to our ambassadors makes someone a person. How do you think they'd take that line of argument? 'Hey good news; you are now persons solely because we talked to you.' They'd be outraged." Imosley leaned back in her seat, a frown on her face. "Let's treat our new neighbors a little more respect."

Martius and Nyyru both seemed to deflate at her words, before Nyyru nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-it does reek of Citadel-centrism to suggest what I did."

"It was just a thought," Martius mumbled weakly.

The Matriarch hummed, drawing everyone's attention. "Currently, it is a rather… ill-advised argument to make, for the reason Miss Iessido already pointed out. However, I do think it may be necessary to cover every conceivable angle." She turned to look at Martius and Nyyru, "Why don't you two look into this line of argument a little more? We can always frame it in a friendlier way." Martius and Nyyru glanced at each other and nodded, Nyxetka grinning as they did so. It was an open secret that the two turians were in love with each other. "Perhaps it would be best to start with some form of precedent that we are familiar with before we consider wholly new rulings."

Surkan immediately raised his hand, a habit he'd picked up somewhere in university. "Might we go back to the very basics," he began, without waiting for the Matriarch to call on him. Another habit he'd picked up somewhere in university. "We are here to determine if the humans met the legal requirements to be persons, but to answer that question we must first answer another. Are humans alive?"

Imosley immediately scoffed, "Of course they are."

"Really?" Surkan challenged before typing something out on his desk. "We can all agree that humans meet all of the classical requirements for life," he gestured up at the screen, drawing everyone's eyes up to various biological definitions of life. Then a new screen providing information on the so-called ghosts appeared. "But, when humans are injured in such a way that… well, injured to the point where their bodies expire, their…"

"Souls?" Martius offered.

Surkan frowned, "I am given to understand that the preferred term is Anima-form, but several of their official media use the term interchangeably with ghost, souls, specters, poltergeists. So long as we all understand what I am referring to, I will continue to use the term Anima-form. Now, their Anima-forms are not composed of matter and therefore do not meet _any_ of the requirements for life except response to stimuli." Surkan waited a moment before continuing. "I therefore contend that Anima-forms are not alive and therefore cannot be persons."

Someone coughed as the entire group mulled over his argument. "Surkan, are you saying humans aren't persons at all?" Imosley questioned.

Surkan's eyes widened while a few of the others looked at him expectantly. "I should have been clearer, I apologize. The human Anima-form is not alive and therefore cannot be a person."

Nyxetka hummed at that. The genetic definition of life had long held considerable sway in the metalaw courts and his argument seemed entirely derived from that precedent. Still, it seemed culturally insensitive to the humans to declare one of their stages of life to not actually be a stage of life. Nyxetka turned her head to the side, bringing her hand up to shield her mouth as she spoke into her omni-tool. "Tariya," she whispered, "please forward any relevant information on bioethics, definitions of life and exotic lifeforms to my desk. Include any Protectorate files in this search."

"Of course, Miss Shaix," her VI assistant answered as her desk lit up with several new communications. Nyxetka silently thanked Mama Sali for buying her such an advanced VI; she probably wouldn't have graduated law school if it weren't for the wonderfully adorable VI assistant. Nyxetka tried her best to review the files Tariya had compiled while also paying attention to the current conversation. Unfortunately, she realized her multi-tasking skills weren't as wonderful as she'd imagined, only a few seconds had passed and she'd already lost track of the conversation. She hissed in pain as her best friend Linythnea gently kicked her underneath the table.

"-oposing Mister Naxe?" The Matriarch leaned forward, Nyxetka noticing her full figure as she did so. She hoped she'd develop as wonderfully as the older woman.

"I propose we end recognition of legal personhood for humans while they are in their Anima-forms. To be clear; we collaborate with the Protectorate to determine when the fetus develops a brain or whenever it is they have culturally decided to consider their unborn as legal persons" he signaled with his hands, segmenting off different portions of his argument. "They retain personhood throughout their biological life. Personhood ends when they sustain enough physical trauma that they must enter their Anima-form," he then motioned to cut off the final portion of his argument. "Personhood is restored when they repair their biological bodies and resume corporeal form." He glanced around the table, seeing some of the wary looks on people's faces. "This is not without precedent." Surkan continued. "Many of the galactic nations have long recognized that personhood is not a quality inherent to all life; furthermore, many hold the opinion that personhood may be limited to certain stages of life. Fetuses are not persons, even though they will develop into the intelligent animals that we recognize as persons. Coma patients with extensive brain damage are not persons." Surkan paused, blinking as he looked down at his desk. "At least, current medical technology cannot restore their brain's functionality necessary for personhood."

Imosley, who sat next to Surkan, smiled before turning to the salarian. "I'd like to direct our esteemed colleague to _T'doran tust T'doran_ , it's a pre-Citadel court case. Happened on Thessia about 400 years before the asari met the salarians at the Citadel. That court found that the peculiarities of our reproduction," at this she pointed to herself and all the other asari at the table, "mean that our little bundles of joy are considered persons."

Surkan's eyes roamed all over the archaic court case, reading words that had become common knowledge among the asari of the galaxy. "This court case is over 3,800 years old. How could you-"

"How could I know about it? Two reasons." Imosley smiled, "One – that's the famous court case that made abortion illegal in the Republics. Every asari knows it. And two – 3,800 years ago, was my great-grandmother's time," she answered. "As for why you didn't know about it; another two reasons. One – that's about… 90 grandfathers ago for you, isn't it? And two – it's also a court case that deals with sex and reproduction, which is of little interest to you salarians."

"95 generations ago," Surkan corrected. "And you are right, those peculiar biological imperatives are irrelevant to me." He leaned back as he finished reading over the court case, eyes rolling. "I often forget just how vast the gulfs between our lifespans are… Mr. Milton, one of the human ambassadors, was born 3,800 ago."

"He will outlive everyone here. They all will, the laws we propose here will affect them far longer than they will us." Linythnea added. Beside her Nyxetka smiled as she imagined Ambassador Milton, a few trillion years older, walking around on Thessia. "Back to Keakisy's _T'doran tust T'doran_ example. Unfortunately, asari law isn't as clear cut. Fetuses are only considered legal persons with regards to their right to life, in every other legal context they are not."

Surkan perked up, eager to see where Linythnea was going with her argument.

LInythnea gestured around her desk, her hands graceful as she gestured towards main display screen. " _Tolomar Industries tust City of Armali_ , an even older case from the dawn of the machine age." Nyxetka glanced at her best friend; Linythnea had written several papers on _Tolomar Industries tust City of Armali_. She knew the case by heart. "The court case concerned the use of child labor. Not the first such case, but it was a pivotal one. Rather than use expensive machine presses, Tolomar Industries would hire young asari for their biotic abilities. Their child laborers would use their biotic abilities to crush or flatten raw materials into whatever shapes were needed to fuel the booming steel industry."

Linythnea displayed images surrounding the case. Ancient black and white photos showing young girls working in terrible conditions. Martius gasped as the images changed, showing some young girls maimed or killed by uncontrolled biotic abilities. A few of the other people at the table winced or looked away, all except the Matriarch and Imosley. The older woman gave sad, pitying looks at the girls in the pictures. Imosley looked livid. Centuries ago, when she and Linythnea had snuck into her mother's library and spied those gruesome images for the first time, they had both cried.

"When brought before the courts, Tolomar Industries argued that such 'workplace accidents' were expected, nearly 60% of all steelworkers suffered similar fates due to similar cost-cutting measures." The images switched, the gruesome photos of little girls crushed on factory floors changing to grown women crushed on factory floors. "They argued that since these deaths were acceptable among adults, then they should be acceptable among children. An idiotic argument." Linythnea scoffed, glaring at the images of several of the Tolomar Industries defendants.

"I agree," the Matriarch announced, earning a smile from Linythnea.

The prim girl continued with her argument, "The prosecutors working for the City of Armali called several child psychologists who testified that asari children under 50 are incapable of entering legal contracts and incapable of giving consent to safety waivers. Because of this ruling Tolomar Industries lost upwards of 90% of its workforce. Bankrupt within the week." Linythnea leaned back in her seat, the entire group watching her. "This also set the precedent for all manner of future rulings which effectively made legal personhood unattainable by asari under 50, until they reach the age of majority." The holographic images then switched to children of all species; all equally adorable. "Most legal systems do not consider children as legal persons, they cannot own property, they cannot enter contractual obligations, they cannot sue or be sued, they have curfews, they cannot bear arms, they cannot vote, cannot give consent to… several things."

Martius' hologram flickered, "I think you may be conflating legal personhood with natural personhood. Children are natural persons, it is simply that we don't grant them all the rights of all legal personhood until their age of majority."

"Isn't this what we're debating?" Linythnea asked. "Show of hands, how many of us believe the humans are persons, even as ghosts?" Nyxetka raised her hand, as did everyone else. Even Surkan raised his hand, drawing a urprised look from Martius. "But legally it's a very different story."

Linythnea made to stand up before looking at the Matriarch. "Of course," The Matriarch announced, rolling her shoulders. "Please everyone, feel free." At her words, Nyyru stood up and stretched, while Keakisy made a break for the refreshment and sweets table.

Keakisy began walking around the table, "Anima-forms don't have physical bodies," she stopped at her desk as her own personal VI assistant appeared. "Please activate my simulation." Her VI assistant bowed before the main holo-tank was cleared and a simuvid was loaded. Nyxetka leaned forward, happily watching as a scene was created in front of her; an apartment, two dead humans and several C-Sec officers storming into the room. "Let us suggest that C-Sec responds to a disturbance at Mister and Missus Human's apartment suite, they find the scene of an apparent suicide. Like all good officers should, they begin to investigate the scene of the crime." The simuvid began playing, little holographic C-Sec officers moving about the room, before long one of them discovers a pistol in the hand of the Missus. The simuvid changed, adding a pixilation effect over the heads of the two human bodies. "The officers assume this may be a suicide pact, or perhaps a domestic dispute that turned bloody. Maybe John and Jane were attempting to fight off an intruder and failed. Whatever the cause, they both have gunshot wounds to the head. A tragic, but legally uncomplicated situation, isn't it?"

The simuvid started over, this time with only the two humans in the room. Their holographic avatars were friendly, laughing and sharing drinks. They look over the handgun, tossing it around before shooting each other in the head. Their Anima-forms, blue avatars, step out of their bodies and resume their conversation. They sit in their living room, chatting happily.

"Except that Mister and Missus are merely thrill seekers who wondered what it would feel like to take a mass accelerator round to the head – some of you may have heard of the extreme sports on Lluvia, the extreme soccer. Players run around a field kicking a ball loaded with explosives into nets, often losing limbs in the process. Human immortality means that they may seek thrills in dangerous ways."

Nyxetka remembered the news coverage over that little fiasco.

The simuvid continues as before with C-Sec officers entering the room, except now two ghosts are visible, reacting to their presence.

Keakisy took a deep breath before she started speaking again. "While discharging a firearm is a criminal offense, what happens after that? Mister and Missus Human are still there, invisible to our eyes and ears, natural or otherwise. They don't want C-Sec searching through their house."

A sharp intake of breath drew Nyxetka's attention to Martius. "A violation of their right to privacy…"

Keakisy, who by now had walked all around the circular table and reached Martius, smiled and tapped him on the shoulder. "Would be the least of their worries, those C-Sec officers would have no legal authority to be operating in the room, no warrants. Any 'evidence' collected would be an illegal seizure, it's possible a good lawyer could argue that it also constitutes an illegal quartering of armed forces. If they physically examine the bodies of Mister and Missus without their consent they could be charged with a whole host of offenses, dozens of Chapter 1, Article 1 violations. If medical examiners or paramedics arrive on the scene and enact _any_ medical procedure on the bodies, well, in addition to the CCC 11, the medical malpractice suits would boggle the mind. But, just to give you a hint of the situation…" Keakisy's VI assistant appeared again, before bowing towards the room. The simuvid gained an overlay which detailed every possible legal offense, there were at least thirty.

"No." Linythnea ventured from her spot near the drinks, a cup of caffeine drink in hand. "No. The officers would have reasonable suspicion. They'd be protected."

"But _do_ they have reasonable suspicion that a crime has occurred?" Imosley asked, rolling her shoulders and popping her neck. "Death is trivial for humans, so much so that elementary schools teach children safe ways to escape their physical bodies. Only Protectorate authorities could have reasonable suspicion that a crime has occurred; Citadelan police forces are simply out of their field of experience." The green woman looked like she'd swallowed something vile. "Xeno-criminology and xeno-penology are already fantastically complicated areas, with lots of legal grey room for any one of those charges to stick. If Keakisy is right…" she mumbled, reading over all those potential violations. "I've studied those fields for years, I know how strange things can get. Citadelan police officers would be better served by not responding to any calls to known Gaian residences."

Keakisy, who was now in front of her seat, placed both hands on her desk, locking eyes with everyone. "This is just the beginning of the legal meteor shower."

The Matriarch, who had been mostly quiet until now, elected to speak. "Currently, the Ministry of Communications has rated the Protectorate-Citadel as a plus-plus on the Kianpa scale. But we must accept the possibility that the Protectorate may never seek to fully integrate itself with the Citadel. Given that we have never discovered Anima ourselves and the possibility that the Protectorate may never wish to share their technological edge, it is possible that we may never develop a method to interact with Anima-forms." The Matriarch glanced at her desk, then at the chronometer on the main display screen. "We've been at this for hours, how about we take a break?" Several people murmured in agreement. "30-minute break everyone, please don't go far. I believe that today lunch is on Miss T'meze."

* * *

"I'm surprised you still aren't over there, gushing like a schoolgirl." Linythnea smiled through small bites of their take-out lunch, both looking over at the Matriarch as she laughed with Keakisy, Martius and Nyyru.

Nyxetka beamed, food stuck in her teeth as she held up her favorite datapad. The Matriarch's book, _The Three Relativities of Personhood,_ sporting the elegant digital signature of the Matriarch. "She signed it!" she grinned, trying to keep her voice down and failing. "I even bought a separate copy for Zeleemna, signed it for her too. She is going to flip!" Nyxetka hopped. "We all need to get together soon, catch up."

Linythnea held up a napkin, wiping her excitable friend's mouth. "As soon as we get some time off, of course. If I have to keep up this proper rich girl act any longer…"

"mmhh fffuu mfffh," the girl began through the lace napkin before taking it from her friend's hand. "I've been thinking about the Matriarch."

"She's amazing, isn't she?" Linythnea agreed, still signaling her friend that she had a bit of food on her mouth.

"She is," Nyxetka nodded, dabbing the napkin wherever her friend pointed to, "In fact, that's what I'm thinking about. The Matriarch could have picked _any_ team in the Ministry; instead she picked ours. You know our team Liny, I love them all."

"But?" Linythnea prodded, taking a sweet off Nyxetka's plate.

"Well, our team hasn't exactly endeared itself to the higher ups. We're _very_ liberal in our proposals." Nyxetka glanced down at her plate. "I thought we had a truce on sweets?"

"I'm not the one on a diet," Linythnea smiled before eating her stolen goods. "The galaxy thinks the Ministry is filled with super liberals, but most of the Supreme Judges are asari born multiple centuries ago. But it fits. The Matriarch is a liberal herself. Probably why she hasn't been offered a position as a Supreme Judge, not with Corlitora and Prasan on the bench."

Nyxetka whistled her favorite musical tone while staring out the window, the gleaming white of the Presidium before them.

"What are you thinking Nyx?" Linythnea asked, staring out the same window.

"I'm thinking the Matriarch is frustrated. She won't show it, because she's too well-mannered for that. Her politics lean to the right, and she picks the most right-leaning team in the Ministry. And what are we doing? Playing it safe."

Linythnea finished her drink, staring at the empty cup. "I've noticed the same thing. If all my mother's high-class parties taught me anything, besides giving me a wonderful lesson into the dangers of underage drinking, it's reading people's facial expressions. Some people make or break their careers based on how well they can keep their tongue." She turned to her friend, leaning into a whisper. "So, what are we going to do about it?"

The two girls grinned, that stupid grin they had whenever they got into trouble together.

"Do you remember university?"

* * *

"That's an interesting proposal, Miss Shaix," The Matriarch mused, her face pleased. "You have already heard the arguments against, how would you respond?"

Nyxetka looked over at Linythnea, just to see if her friend was on board. She wouldn't proceed if she wasn't. Unfortunately for her, she was on board.

"I can't respond, at least I can't counter the arguments Keakisy and Surkan have made. They are right, completely right." Keakisy raised an eyebrow, while Surkan fixed his gaze on her. "Practically, it would be difficult to extend legal personhood to Anima-forms. Every interaction between us and Anima-forms would require a technological mediator, one which we simply don't have." Nyxetka took a deep breath, looking at all her friends. "But I know Surkan and Keakisy's hearts weren't really in their arguments, no matter how well they made them."

The Matriarch chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. "The trait of a good lawyer."

"The best." Nyxetka beamed, "Everyone here is. I love this team, I love this family. Even you Imosley. But I know this team doesn't play it safe. So, I say we don't worry about the practical concerns, the hurtles. That a machine or a piece of technology must mediate interaction between us and them. I say we don't go by the letter of the law and go by the spirit of the law. And the spirit of the law is that we acknowledge the personhood of every form of life, even if they don't exist in physical space."

The Matriarch smiled, looking incredibly pleased. "Please continue, Miss Shaix."

"The MoC and the MoS are working to our benefit here," Nyxetka announced. "The first says this is a plus-plus on the Kianpa scale; the Protectorate and the Citadel both stand to benefit from good relations. Everyone wants to keep it that way." Nyxetka, who seemed in full control of the room now, gestured at the main screen, her VI Tariya taking her cue to project needed information. "While the MoS' preliminary report suggests this is a 11/0 First Contact, they note that the Protectorate's armed forces are formidable."

Martius and Nyyru scoffed, "Formidable," the girl quoted. "You know all Hierarchy citizens received an information packet a month ago on counter-human combat operations. Standard stuff the Hierarchy sends out whenever a new species is discovered. It recommended the use of heavy weaponry to 'incapacitate' humans. Without Anima weaponry of our own, we have no real way to combat Protectorate forces. Doesn't matter if we outnumber them a million to one."

"Good?" Linythnea guessed. That piece of military information surprising everyone in the room save the Matriarch.

"Really good," Martius agreed, his hologram leaning forward. "It means the Citadel will think twice about souring any relations between us and them."

Imosely clapped with a laugh. "Ha! Usually, politics wrangle us to do stupidly bad things, Now, politics are wrangling us to do stupidly _good_ things." She smiled, viciously baring her teeth. Nyxetka wondered if she did have varren blood somewhere in her ancestry. "It feels good to buck the party line."

Surkan, who was pacing about the room with his omni-tool activated began talking at high speed. "Forcing the Citadel to acknowledge the legal personhood of the Anima-forms coincides with their interests. Legal interaction with the Anima-forms require Anima technology; the Citadel could petition the Protectorate to share those technologies in order to further good relations between the two. Either the Protectorate agrees and shares at least some form of Anima technology, which will allow us to study and potentially reverse engineer the technology, thus closing the technological gap between our peoples. Or the Protectorate turns down the request and instead offers the assistance and personnel needed to mediate between corporeal beings and Anima-forms, thus further deepening the cooperation between our peoples."

The Matriarch look pleased as she stood up and cleared her throat. "Miss Shaix, well done. I must say, that _this_ is the team that I was expecting." She clapped her hands together, "Now, let's write our proposal. Be as radical as your team dossier says you all are. If we are all in agreement?" she asked.

Everyone in the room glanced at each other and gave signs of agreement. Nyxetka could tell her little group was eager and excited, like it was their first day on the job right out of law school.

"Wonderful," the Matriarch was just as excited as everyone. No one was sure if the team's excitement had affected her, or if her excitement was what affected the team. The holo-tank was cleared as the room's VI went into dictation mode. "This is Matriarch Sealthia Iallior, Group Leader 16-D of the Ministry of Metalaw's Citadel-Protectorate Committee, sub-committee on Human Affairs, dictating the Legal Recommendation for the Supreme Judges."

She took in a breath.

"It is the considered opinion of this group that the Citadel Council Charter demands that All Members of the Citadel Council acknowledge the personhood of Humans, both in corporeal and Anima-form…"

* * *

"Miss Sali, Miss Shaix," the Matriarch called out as everyone filed out of the room, happy and excited to have finished up the first draft of their legal recommendation for the Supreme Judges. The Matriarch had invited everyone to dinner at a nearby luxury restaurant to celebrate the "metamorphosis of their team". The two girls waited as the rest of their team headed towards the elevators. Nyyru had left early to pick Martius up at his apartment, the two turians agreeing to meet everyone at the restaurant. The Matriarch sauntered up to them, datapads in hand. "I have to say, today was an explosive first day."

Nyxetka stammered while Linythnea kept her composure. "What Nyx means to say, Matriarch, is that 'it was nothing'".

The Matriarch held out her hand, the two girls looking at the outstretched hand and then at each other before rushing to shake her hand first. Nyxetka won first, putting both hands on the Matriarch's and shaking with wild abandon. If the older woman objected to the handshake, she didn't show it. Instead she laughed, the laughter of a mature woman used to tongue tied adoration.

"I made a good choice working with this team," she admitted as she switched to shake Linythnea's hand. "I have been following everyone's career here for quite some time. You all remind me a little of myself. I'll have you know, I requested Miss Artesir be transferred to our little group."

"Zeleemna!?" Nyxetka gasped while Linythnea's shock halted her handshake.

"She's the missing part of your three girl team isn't she?" The Matriarch questioned, pulling out a datapad. "You've read my work," she said, flipping through electronic pages, "And I read yours," she announced, holding up a copy of an article the three girls had co-written in university.

"Zeleemna…" Nyxetka began, looking at all the notes the Matriarch had written along the margins of their paper.

"…is going to flip!" Linythnea breathed.

"A very provocative argument," the Matriarch mused, looking over the datapad once again. "After all, most papers written on the legal personhood of artificial intelligences stick to the letter of the law or outline the dangers of non-organic intelligences; as if the history of organic beings is one filled with peace and happiness. Whereas you three made a compelling argument based on the spirit of the law. Now, where have we heard something similar?" The older woman shared a sly glance with her two juniors. "I'm sure the Supreme Judges will accept our recommendation and extend legal personhood to the various Anima-forms in the Protectorate. It is the right thing to do. And if Corlitora and Prasan can't see that, I'm sure they'll see the self-interest in the recommendation," the Matriarch announced as she began walking towards the elevators, the two star struck girls following closely behind.

As they entered a free elevator the Matriarch continued, "Tell me, did you two know the Protectorate extends citizenship to artificial intelligences? There aren't many, but they are there. Once they discover our anti-AI laws, I'm sure their lawyers will butt heads with our lawyers…" the Matriarch trailed off, letting the two girls pick up her train of thought.

Linythnea was the first to speak up. "Normally, none of the Citadelan societies would budge. Our AI laws are often challenged but rarely ever threatened, no court has ever managed to seriously call for their repeal…"

The two asari then turned to Nyxetka. "Usually because no society has ever had evidence that AIs and organics can co-exist peacefully. But if the Protectorate does, then that blows a hole in most anti-AI logic." Nyxetka put a hand to her head, "Oh! And if the Ministry accepts our proposal, then we'd have already set a precedent for the acceptance of non-corporeal beings as persons. The difference between a floating energy pattern and an electronic mind is trivial! Or, at least the argument could be made that the difference is trivial.

For several seconds, no one said anything.

"In a few years," the Matriarch began, "A good team of lawyers will have to argue that the difference is indeed trivial. Would you two-I'm sorry-would you three, Miss Artesir included, be interested?"

Nyxetka slowly turned to Linythnea, who looked as shocked as she felt.

Then, slowly, a grin creeped up on their faces. The same stupid grin they had whenever they got into trouble together.

"Are you kidding me?" Nyxetka answered, "This is what we live for."


	23. 6 29 3472

6.29.3472

8:33

A soft beeping alerted me to Subject 01's elevated heartbeat.

I looked over the banks of medical information as I tried to assess 01's condition; elevated heartbeat, increase in body temperature by 0.6 degrees, flood of dopamine. I glanced down at the most recent medical logs as I saw the medical readings begin to level out to normal. I had tasked Aldmia with recoding any similar spikes. There had been several. This collaborated what our accessed Protectorate files claimed – this was the work of the parasite, 01-A, nearing maturity.

I frowned.

An invasive parasite that acted on the reward systems of their hosts. I had seen this before – there were several organisms across Citadel space that hijacked their hosts nervous system entire or altered their behavior to propagate themselves. The amazing "zombie varren" fungus of Tuchanka's southern continents came to mind.

I stood up and made my way over to the observation window, looking down at 01. All the medical information that had been displayed at my desk appeared along the smart glass, but I paid it no mind. Instead I simply looked at my subject.

Young. Born Raelono, Praios 3, 3343 at 18:83, age 129. I scowled, someone had noted that 01 would have a birthday next month. This was probably Edaari's work, she always had a habit of fraternizing with the subjects. I deleted the notification. If it isn't related to medical matters, it was irrelevant. 01 might expire long before then, in any case. I asked Aldmia to send a note to Edaari asking her to refrain from such behavior in the future. I suspect she'd ignore the message.

Healthy. Old files from the training programs rated 01 in the upper 64 percentiles for physical strength. Genetic screening showed no abnormalities and medical records showed no chronic health issues. The standard enhancements offered to members of the armed forces further improved on a strong immune system.

01 was asleep. If one focused solely on her outward appeared no one could fathom why they were locked in a quarantine room.

But the hideous growth within betrayed 01 as a ticking biological time bomb.

It is a shame that my government is choosing to waste time and resources, both materiel and personnel, on probing Protectorate space. Three years of clandestine operations and we'd learned so little. And what little we learned was of almost no use to us. If it were up to me, Citadelan society would simply pull out of the Carcosa system and leave the Protectorate to their piddling little patch of space. But the Matrons were enamored with the strange and exotic, so they spent the lives of our girls on Lluvia while the four-eyes built up their pirate fleets in the Terminus.

I don't agree with their decisions. But the facts are that 01 is a soldier, and soldiers are expendable. That being the case, I shall do everything I can to make sure 01 is still useful. And that means harvesting the creature inside her.

I wondered what the Director had planned for it – perhaps it would be shipped off-world for study or experimentation. Perhaps it would be sent to Zone Six's weapons program. That seemed likely. If the Protectorate was not willing to share the secrets of anima weaponry with the rest of the galaxy, we would take it for ourselves. Or perhaps I was not told the full extent of Protectorate involvement in this operation. Perhaps it would be sent back to their world, for them to deal or dispose of it. Perhaps that was for the best.

Monsters belonged with monsters.

Aldmia noted another spike in temperature. 0.4 degrees. Same with the dopamine.

I ask Aldmia to list the exact time and date of all of 01's episodes and then cross-referenced this with the Protectorate files.

Soon.

9:96

I can't help but hum along to the music. I can still remember the first time I saw the Song of Sasia, when my mothers took me to the music house for my fifteenth birthday. Seeing the heroine Sasia kiss Princess Sanantae under the glow of element zero clouds is forever etched in my mind, one of the most influential moments of my life. I should make the effort to get seats for the current production on Nevos, maybe in time for the spring show-

Oh, 01 is hyperventilating.

Aldmia calls my attention to several readouts, but I don't need them. I can see 01 beyond the observation window, clearly in distress as fluids pour out of her, her temperature spiking far beyond any previous episodes.

It is time.

I made a gesture and Aldmia sprang into action – the VI activating the machinery inside the observation room. Graspers and clamps, retractors, drills, tissue-glues, scopes, suction hoses, eezo-manipulators, artificial nerve extensions and all other medical tools whirled and whizzed above 01, a cluster of mechanical machines that reminded me of some the arachnid creatures encountered during the Rachni Wars. Behind her a row of machines hummed and churned, chemical fabricators and artificial stomachs churning liquid concoctions necessary for life saving operations.

I hit a button on my omni-tool, synchronizing the implants along my arms to those of the telepresence machine that was lowered before 01. I moved my arms in all manner of movements, the machine before 01 copying me exactly. Then my office lit up, holo-projectors recreating a life-size image of 01. 01 said something to me, or at least, she directed her words at me through the tele-presence link. I didn't listen or respond, as that was not my job. Aldmia could handle 01's questions. I reached out and touched 01, placing "my" hands over her body. The machine hands of my operator transferred data into my implants and those to my brain. I could "feel" the body of 01 on my fingers. Warm. Sweat.

Things beneath her skin moved.

Liquid filth gushes from her, greeting the world.

Greeting me.

Even though 01 is nothing more than a holographic representation, olfactory and aural simulators allow me to smell and taste the full effect of her condition. I am still disgusted and recoil. Down in the observation room the telepresence machine recoils away too.

01 attempts to insult me, finding some amusement in my reaction before she spasms in pain.

01 cannot see my smile.

Pain is a wonderful teacher.

Maybe the pain will teach her to abandon her degeneracy.

13:81

I am sitting in front of 01's hologram. Hours have passed, hours filled with 01's heavy breathing ringing in my ears, her gasps and cries, the stench of her sweat and filth and the sight bloated veins bursting through her skin.

I can excise this invasion right now, I have the tools and I have the training. The surgery would be simple, quick, clean. With luck, 01 might survive.

But the Director has stayed my hand. She wishes to see this creature in action, wishes to see 01-A tear its way out of 01 on its own free will. The scientific data collected will be quite valuable.

The Director also informs me that Dr. Dalila attempted a similar surgery to the one I had envisioned on her own test subject, 02. Both 02 and 02-A expired during the operation. 04-B was successfully extracted and under observation. Dr. Dalila is an experienced surgeon, with nearly a century working in the field. That she failed so catastrophically is alarming. I ask Aldmia to forward me the post-operation report, since I know it will be a fascinating read. Dr. Dalila is such a wonderful writer.

She has such a wonderful way of sneaking in her wit into everything she writes.

So, instead of moving ahead and perhaps repeating her mistakes, I will wait. Aldmia is recording everything while I dictate my thoughts into my omni-tool.

I mute 01's hologram, as her pained noises are being picked up in my personal recording.

15:72

01-A is here.

It greets me with a crown of blood, mucus, pus and feces and a chorus of screams and tears.

I reach forward, holding onto the thing as it continues to tear out of 01, a torrent of vile liquid following behind as it finally bursts free, parasitic link trailing behind it.

I hold it in mechanical hands as it begins to kick and move.

Pink and bloody.

Male.

Human.

I want to vomit.

16:21

I finish my report to the Director, who informs me that 01 and 01-A will be moved to another location, one equipped with the appropriate medical facilities. I do not ask if the Protectorate is involved in this operation, both because I am not interested and because I suspect I do not have the appropriate security clearance. The Director congratulates me and gives me my new orders. Soon, a team will be arriving to relieve me, afterwards I am on leave for the foreseeable future with the understanding that I may be reactivated if complications arise with 03, 03-A, 04 and 04-A. The Director also recommends that I meet with Dr. Dalila and discuss our procedures. I promise to do so, since I am eager to compare notes and learn from our experiences. The Director once again congratulates me before her connection shuts down.

I am left with Aldmia.

I do not want to look past the observation window at 01 and 01-A.

I ask Aldmia to turn the opacity on the observation window to maximum, blocking them from my view.

I sit back down in my desk and think of my mothers, Sasia and Princess Sanantae.

I look over the recordings Aldmia took of the operation.

16:29

I am greeted by a team of asari masquerading as technicians headed by an agent whose name I was too tired to remember. Aside from a few of them gawking as they entered the observation room, they were perfect professionals. The room and equipment were dismantled in minutes, 01 and 01-A hidden in cryo-pods disguised as shipping containers. Were anyone to walk in on us they would only see a doctor discussing the newly operational server room with a few computer technicians.

There is only one thing left to do.

I call over the agent in charge, as well as her second in command as a witness. They both pat me down and search me for any unauthorized devices or files on my omni-tool. Aside from my own voice recordings, which had been approved by the Director, they find nothing. These searches are degrading, I have worked with the agency for centuries. Longer that the lives of some of these girls. But I bite my tongue and allow them to do their job, just as I have done mine. I am cleared.

The operation, or at least my involvement in it, is officially over.

I walk out of the room I had just spent the better part of three days in and into brightly lit hallways. They are mostly empty. A few people greet me. Not by my real name of course. None of the people in these halls are part of my agency, so all they know about me is my fabricated identity. Still, it does warm my heart to hear the affection they use when they call "my" name. I promise to attend a party some of the staff are hosting on the 30th. I sincerely look forward to it.

Out in the hallway I see one of our girls holding hands with a human.

I frown at the two.

The poor naïve girl sees my frown and gives me a look before turning to her lover and kissing him on the cheek.

She asks me if I have a problem with what I see.

I don't answer her. Goddess willing, she's turn from her life of filth and marry a proper asari woman. Goddess willing, she'll turn away from our society's illness of miscegenation. Goddess willing, she won't go through what 01 went through.

I walk outside and greet the cold bitter weather of Lluvia.

18:91

I could not sleep. This is not surprising, considering all that I had seen and heard and done. I stared down at my glass of wine, the cool blue color doing little to calm me.

I put the glass down as I accessed my implant's application through my omni-tool. Small-scale cybernetic implants like mine are often "implant and forget". You rarely think about them and maintenance is so minimal as to be non-existent. But, and most people are not aware of this fact, they are occasionally updated for a variety of reasons – reducing interface lag between the neural connections, or adaptions to improved software. But those updates are small in file size. Kilobytes at best Megabytes at worst. Usually nothing more than half a gigabyte or so. Hence, implants have small memory chips of about half a gigabyte or so – more than enough for the average person.

And more than enough for a few seconds of video recording.

More than enough to catch the birth of 01-A.

I took an awful risk smuggling this recoding out. Aldmia could have easily discovered my actions were she monitoring all the data streams between her systems and those of my implants. But I knew she wasn't. In the first place, she wasn't designed for such a thing. Medical programming was at the core of her software, with any espionage or security systems only added on as an afterthought. Secondly, I was masking the video recording through my voice recording. Even if Aldmia's meager programming were monitoring me, she did not have the intelligence to discern my actions.

The agency is easier to fool. I have worked there for centuries. Longer than some of their agents' lifespans. I was beyond anything but obligatory security checks.

I consider what to do with this recording.

I stand and make my way to my apartment window, a hard rain beating against the glass.

I think about my mothers.

I think about Sasia and Sanantae under glowing clouds.

I think about the girl I saw in the hallway.

I think about her question, if I had a problem with what I saw.

I stare out at Lluvia. At the humans and the asari mixing and fucking and giving birth to abominations.

"My problem is that you are blind to the plague of vermin you invite into our wombs."


End file.
